The Last Gift
by Keina Snape
Summary: TRANSLATIONHarry receives a very special gift for his 16th birthday, which quickly comes in handy when things get really bad at Privet Drive this summer.But when he finds refuge at Snape's,everything starts to get complicated..No slash, guardian fic
1. Chapter 1 Lily's Lullabye

**This is the translation of my fanfic "Shadow" (French), with the precious help of my beta-reader Cyn and Amy, who I must thank very much for their work : English is not my mother tongue, and it was actually a hard job to make my translation looks like proper English !**

**Hugs!**

**Chap 1 : Lily's Lullaby**

"Sirius…"

In a deep, agitated sleep, a messy haired boy was fiercely fighting against his blanket.

"Come back… Sirius… No! The veils… wait… I'm sorry!" Suppressing a cry, the teenager woke up with a start. Staring into space, it took a moment to gater his wits. It was summertime, and he was back again, at number four Privet Drive, his uncle and aunt's place...and Sirius was dead. Dead. Fallen through the veil. Because of Harry.

Bellatrix, the mirror...dead.

Harry groped around for his glasses, with no luck. He sighed, 'Never mind'. It was night, it was dark, and he hadn't cried out loud. Vernon was not going to slam the door open and shout at him to let them sleep in peace.

Just like Sirius was.

Sirius, at peace ? How could he, after having been so stupidly killed at the Ministry? It had been for no reason, he was neither cleared of the charges for murder, nor free to enjoy his life. And his godson, Harry... he could only see his death now.

Harry held back a sob. Night after night, Sirius came back to die in his dreams. Of course, he could have asked for a dreamless sleep potion from the Order, but... he didn't deserve it. Sirius could come back every single night, and it wouldn't make up for Harry's errors. The only person who had wanted him since his parents' deaths was dead, and it was Harry's fault... just like his parents, wasn't it?

Unable to go back to sleep, Harry walked to the window. Behind the bars, the full moon was glowing.

'Remus must be in bad shape right now,' he thought. He leaned his forehead against the bars for a while, wishing he could just slip through them, jump to the street, and run far away. Somewhere where he wouldn't know anyone, somewhere no one would die. Just for a while, to forget...Well, why bother?

Better go back to sleep. Tomorrow, there would be a lot of chores to be done. Or Dementors to fight. Tomorrow would be his birthday, for what it was worth.

Harry Potter slipped back in his bed, and sank into a dreamless, dark sleep. He didn't hear midnight striking. He did not see the three pale shadows appear like mist in his room, and gather around his bed. "Harry…forgive me…"

The boy shuddered in his sleep.

"Don't wake him, Sirius. He shouldn't see us; it would just make things more difficult."

"I know" sighed the figure with the long, dark hair. There was deep regret in his gaze. "And yet, if I could just tell him how sorry I am…"

"Sirius, James is right," replied the soft voice of the feminine shape standing by his side. "He will understand; one day, he will know. But we just have tonight, and we've got to choose."

"I know" Sirius said in a stronger voice. "We discussed this already. It's just hard to see our own mistakes weighing down the very one we wanted to protect". The shadows of James and Lily stepped closer to him, until the three of them became a single, protective shape. They kept silent for a while, watching the sleeping boy unaware of their presence.

"I am sorry, Harry." Lily said in a soft voice. "For all of our mistakes, for your fears, for leaving you alone...We only have tonight, my love. And you will probably never know about this... Sirius' death will not have been in vain, in the end. Tonight, my child, receive our gift, the only one we can still give you, and make good use of it. Never forget that we love you, that we willingly gave our lives for you and are so proud of you. My little lion... Happy birthday." The young woman turned toward her companions who answered her with a nod.

The two men stepped toward the sleeping boy, their hands outstreched. "For you, my son; be brave. Stand tall. I trust you, you will find the way. I love you, Harry..."

"Forgive me Harry, for I wasn't the godfather I wanted to be...My death shouldn't be a weight on your shoulders. I was already living on borrowed time and getting getting to know you was a great privilege. We will meet again... when everything will be at peace." A moonbeam filtered through the bars, shining down on the three ghostly shadows leaning over the bed.

A soft voice arose, crooning an old lullabye, it notes reaching deep into the boy's unconsciousness. A profound sense of peace seemed to permeate the room. From the outstreched hands of the two men, a golden haze spread out to hover above the body lying on the bed. As the song ran filled the air, as time seemed to stand still, the haze came to rest just above the boy, slowly dancing, glowing under the moonlight. The lullaby became softer, slower, before dying away on a breath.

As if sensitive to the music, the haze also quit dancing, and stopped, then quickly melted into the boy and disappeared. In his sleep, Harry trembled.

"I love you, Harry." Lily whispered a last time, before fading away. At his bedside, the two other figures vanished without a sound.

Outside, a dog howled his distress to the full moon.

And at number 4, Privet Drive, the now sixteen year old boy seemed to, for a while, glow with a strange light.


	2. Chapter 2 Before Leaving

BAM...BAM 

"WAKE UP!"

Harry woke in a start at the thumps on the door and leaped to his feet. Uncle Vernon seemed to be in an even worse mood than usual...Of course, Vernon was not one of those people who woke up singing in the morning, but since the begining of the summer, his mood had been literally murderous. Well, to look on the bright side of things, he seemed to have decided to ignore Harry most of the time.

The problem was the rest of the time.

The chores did not really bother Harry. On the contrary. As long as he was busy cleaning, cooking or gardening, he could at least push the thoughts of Voldemort and Bellatrix, and Sirius falling throught the veil, to the back of his mind. Sometimes, when he was exhausted enough, he could even sleep without dreaming for a while, for which he was deeply grateful.

However, Harry wasn't the only one here who had problems. If Uncle Vernon remained totally ignorant of the war and of the threat Voldemort represented, his own Muggle problems were enough to make him more quick tempered than ever; the impending closure of the factory, Dudley's bad grades, Marge's car accident... and his own rheumatism which was now almost as bad as his high cholesterol rate.

All those calamities could only have one cause...Potter. The damn kid who had been foisted upon them at the age of one, with his abnormality, his arrogance, his...

Vernon saw red. It was the brat's fault; this little ungrateful whelp, who had been ruining their lives since the day he arrived !

So Vernon decided to do his best to ignore him this summer; and to have him spend the hols in his rooms, as if that would even help... However, his godfather was dead, and the brat screamed every night, waking them with a start...

To hell with those freaks who'd threatened him at the station; the kid needed discipline, and he was going to take care of that; Nobody could blame him for keeping the peace in his own home!

Shaking the boy a bit seemed to help. A few slaps across the face to calm his hysteria had considerably lessened his own stress, and it obviously did not harmed the boy much. In fact, he seemed to take the thrashings with a measure of resignation, as if he knew he deserved it... Finally. Vernon might have found the right way to deal with that living picture of arrogance. He'd always known that a bit of 'well-applied' discipline could only be good for children... and their guardians' nerves.

The door slammed open and Vernon came into the small room. Harry was nervously standing on his bed, waiting for what would come next.

"Boy! You don't move. You don't breathe. You don't touch anything. We are going to the hospital to see Marge. We will be back this evening. DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE THIS ROOM!" he barked

Relieved, Harry relaxed and nodded.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

Vernon hesitated for a moment. Leaving the brat a whole day alone in the house...Well, he had no choice. Figg was ill, Marge was in a sorry state at the hospital... Out of the question to leave Dudley with the little freak, and Marge was asking for him anyway. With a last threatening glance, Vernon shut the door of the room and started fastening the locks. The boy wouldn't wander far with those on anyway...

Harry could scarcely believe his luck. A whole day alone, it was a real birthday present! Sure, he wouldn't be able to sneak food today, but he was counting on Hedwig to bring him his usual birthday cakes that Mrs Weasley, Hagrid and Hermione never failed to send him.

Of course, there would be nothing from Sirius this year... he felt the familiar knot in his stomach; One more milestone that would go by without Sirius.  
Harry stiffened. Outside, car doors slammed shute and a motor started up. A moment later, the car left the alley and the boy relaxed. He was alone for the day, free to do whatever he wanted! Or rather, he thought, not to do anything at all.

Sighing, he lay on his bed. He'd had a strange dream last night, after he'd fallen back to sleep. He couldn't remember the details, but it'd seemed that Sirius was in it, as well as his father and mother, wishing him a happy birthday. Strangely enough, the dream hadn't left the same bitter taste it usually had whenever he dreamed about them. They hadn't blamed him for anything this time... he had felt at peace, loved, and he'd experienced a warm sensation suffusing his skin...

Yes, that had been a strange dream. Too bad Vernon had woken him up just to tell him not to leave.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to recapture the warm sensation, to remember the details, but the dream was fast escaping him. He was just starting to fall asleep when a familiar noise woke him up; a beak was angrily knocking on the glass!

Harry opened his eyes and rushed to open the window: a white owl hurtled into the room in a mess of feathers, furiously angry that she'd had to wait.

"Sorry, Hedwig, I should have left the window open!" the boy apologized.  
The owl let out an angry cry in agreement, but then perched on his shoulder at once, nipping Harry's finger affectionately, causing Harry to smile.  
"Thanks, Hedwig. I missed you too."

He stroked the snowy head, and noticed a small package tied to her leg. Smiling, he untied the package and put it on his bed before lifting Hedwig into her cage. He handed her a biscuit that she eagerly ate, proud of her accomplished mission, she settled on her perch for a nap.

Harry smiled at the sight; Hedwig was not only his only link to the wizarding world during hols, but also a very endearing companion! He suddenly felt a bit less depressed, and started to open what must have been his first birthday present.

A letter slipped from the brown paper: neat handwriting with straight lines... it had to be Hermione!

_Dear Harry,_

_ I hope your summer is going well with your family, and that you are not thining about what happened at the Ministry too much._

_I have just arrived at the Burrow, after a month spent in southern France with my parents: it is a very fascinating place, as much historically as magically; the protection spells on those old castles are incredible! I learned a lot about local traditions, and I met some Beauxbatons students (not Fleur though)  
I am affraid I am a bit behind with my sixth year readings, but I am just so nervous waiting for the OWL results! They should not be long now._

_The bracelet (in the package) comes from a small shop in a village I visited this summer: it is an Portable Aid. The shopkeeper, a French wizard, he told me it was used in the last Muggle wars by wizards: when the person wearing it is seriously wounded, the bracelet will lead him to the nearest person capable of healing him while slightly levitating them. I thought you would be the one for whom it would be the most useful!_

_I hope you are not having any problems this summer, and that you are having a nice birthday anyway. Ron and I cannot wait to see you, Mrs Weasley asked Dumbledore to get you to the Burrow as quickly as possible; Ginny is very impatient too and the twins are dying to show you their latest invention (Mrs Weasley threatened to disown them if they use them at the Burrow!)_

_Take care!_

_Happy Birthday!_

_Hermione_

Harry smiled as he put letter back on the bed. Hermione was certainly not one to spend her summer getting a tan!

He curiously opened the package, and found a little silver, braided bracelet, which slid easily agains his fingers. Harry examined it carefully: there was nothing to distinguish it from an ordinary jewell, but trust Hermione to know what she was talking about! A warmth of well-being filled him as he put the bracelet on his wrist: Sirius and his parents were not there anymore to look after him, but his friends never lowered their guards...

The bracelet stretched and naturally adjusted around his wrist. Harry did not have time to put Hermione's letter away: a tornado of feathers came crashing into his kness, breathless as it collapsed under the weight of a large package.  
Harry quickly set Errol free and gave him some water; Errol was far too old for long hauls!

Grateful, the owl sank into the water bowl and nearly drowned. Harry held him, patting his wings, under the outraged stare of Hedwig.

When he was sure the bird could stand on the perch by himself, Harry hurried to open the package that had nearly caused the owl to collapse.

He smiled at the sight of the enormous cake that Mrs Weasley, true to tradition, had baked him. He gratefully helped himself to a large piece of cake, his starved, empty stomach was growling with hunger!

He opened the envelope that was stuck on the side of the box:

_My Dear Harry,_

_Professor Dumbledore promised me that he would bring you to the Burrow himself as soon as the Order is less busy, which should not be too long. We are all impatient to have you here, I hope that everything is going well for you with your family. Even if it is not an enjoyable time, please remember that you are safe there, and do not wander out of the house!_

_See you soon, Happy Birthday!_

_Molly Weasley_

Harry was feeling better by the minute; he was sure to be at the Burrow soon, and the summer holidays would finally begin!

Before he could help himself to a second helping of cake, a crashing noise at the window made him jump to his feet: he turned just in time to see three heavily laden owls collide and then struggle to enter through windowsill.  
Harry could not help laughing when the smallest of the three, Pig, only slightly bigger than a baby chick, let out a shrill cry, stuck as it was between Hagrid and the twins' larger owls.

He quickly took him in his hand to comfort him, but it only took a minute for the tiny owl to gather himself and start cheeping with all his breath, at the two birds that had knocked him over!

Harry thanked Merlin that the Dursleys had decided to leave for the day: not only had the five owls transformed his room into an owler, but they also seemed to have decided to make as much noise as possible to celebrate his birthday! He tried to calm down the loudest one, Pig, by untying his package and rewarding him. He quickly opened the letter that had come from Ron's, of course:

_Harry,_

_What are you waiting for? Hermione is already here and Fred and George have brought all sorts of incredible stuff! Are the Muggles holding you prisoner? If that's the problem, we will come for you! We already know the way!  
Have a look in the box: I know it's not as great as Sirius's mirror, but I think we can find a way to use it!_

_Get here soon !!!_

_Ron_

Curious, Harry hurriedly opened the package. A miniature broom slipped out and flew to alight atop his hand. When he closed his fingers aound it, a long roll of parchment unrolled from the stick:

"Note-broom: make your messages fly! Rewritable up to 10 000 times per roller with a standard quill! Forbidden in official examinations!"

"No joke!" Harry thought, laughing at the prospect. The idea of going back to Hogwarts had never filled him with such anticipation!

The second was a heavy package, held out by an odd-looking owl; was filled with homemade cakes from Hagrid. The third revealed a large sampling of Weasley Twins products, with the promise to show him more as soon as he got to the Burrow! Harry sighed; he hadn't had any news from Dumbledore all summer. When was he intending to come and collect him?

However, there was no reason to be discouraged: the news was good, and he would more than likely be at the Burrow before the end of the week.  
The day passed quickly, writing thank you letters and playing with the miniature broom. The broom was fast and for lack of a real one, he happily fashioned a makeshift Snitch!

Harry was feeling almost light-hearted when he heard the car park in the alleyway again. The doors were slammed loudly, and the boy felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Overcome by a sudden, bad premonition, he opened Hedwig's cage.

"Go!" he whispered. "Go wait for me at the Burrow; it is not worth you staying here. I won't be long."

The owl worriedly bit at his fingers. He stroked her head to reassure her, and then opened the window once again. With a regretful look, Hedwig took flight. Harry watched as she disappeared, as footsteps were echoing on the staircase. He could tell by his weight that it was Uncle Vernon, but it was not his usual way of walking...

As the locks opened one by one, Harry felt the lump in his throat.  
The door opened and shut to admit by Uncle Vernon.

Harry had always feared his uncle, most especially when he was cross. However, Vernon's face at this moment was more than frightening... the boy could feel a wave of hatred fill the room. Vernon's face was beet red and splotchy: the angle of his jaw and the circles around his eyes were white, while purple spots were splattered over his face. He was nearly mute from pure rage.

"She's dead," he managed to say.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Harry stammered. It took him a few seconds to realize who had died: Marge. Marge was dead. So it'd turned out that she was not as indestructible as he'd always thought.

"Sorry!" Vernon finally shouted, "You should be! It's all your fault! Your bloody fault!"

Harry was speechless. He did not know the details about Marge's accident, but he was quite sure that he was in no way implicated!

"You, your abnormality... your fault... always...You bring destruction and death wherever you go!"

Harry wavered on his feet. The sight of Sirius falling through the veil hit him full force.

"Never... we should never have taken you in. Thrown you in the street, that would have been reasonable... how many times I wanted to... but no!" Vernon still couldn't speak, wild with anger.

"Destruction... death... you should have been the one to die! Ungrateful, horrible little freak! Rotten to the core, you are! Evil as can be... worse than a bug, should have crushed you long ago!"

Stunned, Harry was fighting for breath. His vision suddenly went blurry as he watched uncomprehendingly as Vernon took off his belt and fixed him with a nasty look.

"You killed her. You killed them all... you parents...you bring bad luck! You are worthless; you don't deserve the air you're breathing! You ruin everything! You kill everything!"

The belt whistled in the air before landing on Harry's chest with the full force of an enraged Vernon. The words were still echoing in his head, and he did not register the pain of the first blow until the second one hit him full in the face. Then the third. Finally coming out of his trance, Harry lifted an arm to protect himself; his glasses had fallen off and he could not follow Vernon's words and gestures at the same time.

Something had once again just unravled in his mind...

"Killed! How many more? My family who took you in! You little monster, what else are you going to do to us? You're nothing but a curse!"

And the words sounded so right. And the blows felt so right.

And so, he did not try to resist anymore, just tried to accept the punishment, trying not cry. Maybe somehow it would be enough to pay for what he'd done? Enough to be forgiven? No, that was impossible...

Vernon's continued, unabated. He was right, and the little freak knew it... kneeling in front of him, he was waiting for the blows, and he would get them.  
After a long time, when he did not have any strength left, he stopped to look down at the crouching figure as it moaned and bled at his feet. lying at his feet. He kicked him away disgustedly one last time, then wiped the sweat from his face, trying to calm himself enough to speak.

"Tomorrow... tomorrow, you ungrateful freak, you will be gone! Pack your things. Tell your friends to come get you. Either they do, or you go and sleep on the streets, I don't give a damn. You do not live here anymore. Don't you ever dare come near my family again. Never."

After spitting on the boy, the man turned on his heels and left the room, this time without doing the locks.

It was almost nighttime outside, an icy wind swept alongs the street... two silent, black silhouettes appeared and stepped closer to the. Seeming both impatient and triumphant, they stopped a few feet away from the garden.

In the smallest room of number 4, Privet Drive, Harry Potter was lying in a blessed unconsciousness... black, red... but he had to leave. Before he caused something bad to happen again. A death. Many deaths. He wanted to stand up, but could not move, nor feel his body... He had to go, though. Quickly. He felt the bracelet warming on his wrist, as if to wake him up gently. Yes, he had to follow the bracelet, but first... there was something he had to do.  
But what?

The lyrics of a lullaby drifted back to him in the haze of his memory.

_When the night comes... a star..._

An instant later, he opened his eyes. It was dark, but he could see if it were daylighty. He got up, surprised and happy to find that he could stand on his legs. His four legs. His whole body was aching, but... but? He was missing something. What was he doing here? He had to go, but why?

Something soft and comforting was shining around his neck, and he suddenly felt lighter. He knew where to go... or at least, somebody knew it for him.

A moment later, a skinny black cat threaded itself between the bars of the window of the small room et number 4, Privet Drive, jumped into the garden then crept away under the freshly painted fence.

At precisely the same moment, two Death Eaters stepped through the front door, as furtively and gracefully as the cat had sneaked out of the house.


	3. Chapter 3 The Cat Who Lived

**Chapter 3 : The Cat Who Lived **

Severus Snape didn't like summer.

It was hot, and his black robes felt heavy and stiff. Potions were unsteady if not watched carefully, and the students... well, the students were on holidays. The dunderheads were enjoying their summer getting on their parents' nerves, for which he was grateful.

Leaving his Slytherin rooms for Snape Manor, he was finally able to focus on his potions, in the cool of his own personal dungeon. The idea would have been more attractive if not for the excessive quietude.

Of course, students made him lose his temper a hundred times a day, especially those idiot Hufflepuffs and the arrogant Gryffindors... but to their credit, they kept him on this toes.

With a look at the Dark Mark on his arm, Snape found himself daydreaming once again of what his life would have been like... if he had made a different choice... if he had listened...

No matter. The choices had been made long ago, and all that remained now were the consequences. The Dark Lord could summon him at any moment, and his potions had to be ready.

They always were...

He glanced upward through the small dungeon window and could see the sky lightening. The sun was about to rise. Leaving his lab for a while, Snape climbed the stairs that led to the garden.

The Order members would surely laugh at the idea that Severus Snape, spy, Death Eater, irascible Potions professor, liked to leave his dungeon to watch the sunrise.

Whatever they would think, it wouldn't change in the least what he felt. For a few minutes, Snape could harbour the illusion that all hope wasn't lost, and that the world could still be unspoiled for a moment.

Just until the day started, when he would return to the darkness of the lab.

The sun was late to appear today, and a fog had settled over the countryside. A fog that strangely cooled the summer and made Snape shiver...

His attention was suddenly caught by the bush before him: there was definitely something moving around in there... Snape drew his wand at once and furtively stepped closer.

He moved the branches apart and stood still for a second: two green eyes were staring at him, both fearful and hopeful... a vision quickly swept through his mind: a smile, a laugh…of other green eyes... He shook his head and re-gathered his thoughts.

From under the bushes, a little black cat was intensely staring at him, immobile.. There was something shiny around his neck; obviously the cat belonged to some neighbourhood farm and was out making the rounds of his territory.

Amused, the Potions Master caught the cat by the scruff of the neck and pulled him closer. It was not a kitten anymore, but it was not fully adult either. It was as small as it was light, and Snape could feel its fright as it trembled.

The sun finally pierced through the fog, and Snape could see the cat more closely.

His amusement vanished at once. The cat was not only small and fearful; he was also skinny and covered with blood. It was a wonder that he hadn't fought his captor.

Snape had no sympathy to waste on students. He was not paid to play babby-sitter or even to be nice; he was a Death Eater, a spy, and his sordid past did not predispose him to pity or compassion.

But the professor still didn't approve of mistreatment, either of children, animals, or any creature incapable of defending itself, even a first year Hufflepuff student.

Afraid of hurting the cat, the Potions Master loosened his grip, releasing him on the ground. The cat seemed relieved, but did not try to flee as Snape expected, but only raised a strange, lost look at him.

Snape hesitated for a moment.

"Well, I suppose that if I can heal a half-dying wizard, I can try to fix a cat that looks like he lost a battle to a hippogriff ?"

The cat did not move.

Snape cautiously lift the feline and took him off towards the dungeon. The cat appeared to be bleeding from several wounds, but his black furr made it difficult to assess. Grabing a jug of water and a clean cloth, he undertook to gently wash the cat.

"I'm afraid that your kind does not like of this kind of treatment, but it's for your own good. Stay still," he ordered the animal, attempting a reassuring voice. The heart of the cat was furiously beating, but he still did not move.

Snape found himself thinking that the cat was actually smarter and more cooperative than most of his students; he felt a sudden surge of sympathy for the young cat.

A surge which came to an abrupt halt when he finally cleared the head of the cat of the blood covering his fur.

Contrary to what he had thought, the cat was not totally black.

On his forehead was a white, lightning-shaped mark.

Snape clenched his teeth, the picture of a certain Gryffindor student flashing through his mind.

"Merlin ! Am I doomed to save every single Potter in the world, even the feline version of the precious savior ?"

The cat blinked and cowered at his threatening tone. Snape waved his hand, as to dismiss the thought.

"Very well. If I am destined to be chased after by all the stupid and arrogant creatures with green eyes and a lightning bolt on the forehead…"

He grabbed the cat and lifted him to eye-level..

"Then, you will be the Cat Who Lived."

The cat blinked in answer.

Daylight came slowly, the haze not seeming to want to fade away. Snape was anxiously waiting for the familiar burn on his forearm, indicating that his master was summoning him. Something was wrong, he could feel it, and that made him particularly nervous. It has been more than a week since he'd last had any contact with the Death Eaters, and the Order was getting worried.

Did Voldemort have any suspicion as to where his loyalties lay ? Was he planning a new attack on Muggles, or on the Golden Boy?

Snape sighed in frustration. He had no way to know... what was the use of risking his life spying if no one ever told him anything?

On the table, the cat cautiously moved a leg to change his position. The animal was obviously suffering from his wounds. Who could have reduced the cat to such a sorry state ? His owners?

Snape studied the strange silver collar around his neck. It looked like a rather precious object, so surely his owners must care about him... Butt short of a name tag, and given the uncertainty surrounding the origins of the wounds, he could not return their animal..

He considered the question: he had already healed wounded animals in the past, but they had always been magical creatures... well, weren't all cats supposed to have some magic in them?

He opened a cupboard and took out a small blue vial and a clay jar that he then opened.

To make a cat drink a potion and stay still as he applied the salve would not be an easy matter... better to immobilize him beforehand. He looked at the cat and hesitated. The cat seemed to understand that he wanted to help him and had not tried to fight him thus far...

"Cat. If you know what is good for you, you will not move. The salve I am going to put on your wounds will cool them and help them heal."

The cat listened to him with an attentive and surprised look on his face. Snape mentally cursed; here he was , talking to a cat as if he could understand... with a bit more time, he'd have a pink rubbon around the cat's neck!

Grumbling, he put a hand on the cat's back, trying to be reassuring.

"Good. Be still. There… "

The salve barely made its way though the thick fur of the cat. Despite his collar, the cat looked more like an alley cat than a purebred champion making the circuit of feline beauty contests. Snape held out his hand to grab the collar and then slid it though his fingers, looking for the opening.

The cat, who had been still until then, suddenly started and thrashed furiously; the Potions Master let go of the collar to hold the cat in place, surprised by his reaction.

The animal stopped moving but still did not relax.

"Very well, I get it, I will not remove your collar," the Potions Master said in a conciliatory voice. Curious reaction that the cat had just had... Well who knew what went on in a cat's mind ? He probably thought he was being strangled.

His mind wandering, Snape applied the salve on the last visible wounds. Really, whoever had taken it out on this cat had the soul of a real sadist... his skin was shredded on almost all of its body; not even its face and head had been spared. He also seemed to have difficulty bearing weight on one of his legs and was limping pitifully.

Snape shook his head. If he was to be part of a raid against Muggles tonight, at least he would have helped to relieve a cat's suffering. Maybe that was the path to redemption...

He didn't have anything against animals. They were silent most of the time and did not ask stupid questions. Dogs, obviously, were loudest and a bit of a nuisance, but cats had a proud and independent manner that found a kinship with his own demeanor..

This one, however, was neither proud nor mysterious right now. Exhausted, the cat was lying on the table, legs folded up under his frail body.

Far too skinny, Snape thought… Taking out his wand, conjured a small plate and poured the potion he wanted the cat to drink in it. He probably should have dissolved it in milk, but its effectiveness would have been lessened.

He gently put the plate in front of the cat. Cautiously, the cat stretched out a curious nose, before pulling away with a disgusted look on his face.

'Foiled,' Snape thought 

"Come on, cat. That will help you."

The cajoling tone only earned him a tired look from the cat. Snape sighed; he didn't want to have to force the potion down the cat's throat. An idea suddenly came to him; he opened a cupboard and took out a box full of little vials of all colors.

"Strawberry… honey… rose… No, that won't do… grapefruit…… wood… Sardine! " 

With a satisfied smile, the Potions Master put two drops of it into the cat's plate.

These artificial flavour samples had not been a waste of time, after all; everything ever came in handy, one day or another !

Intrigued by the smell, the cat stepped toward the plate again and… started to lap at it avidly.

Snape chuckled ; this cat was truly a valuable distraction, in spite of his annoying resemblance to a feline Potter. Whether it was a human or animal issue, he liked to find solutions, and most of all potion-based solutions !

Fortified by the potion, the cat started to limp about on the table, smelling the vials and tools there with curiously.

Snape quicky caught him.

"Easy there, Potter, you will not destroy more of my posessions today ! "

The Potions Master broke off and snorted, thinking of what he had just said. This awful green-eyed cat was a perfect caricature of the hero of the wizarding world... quite funny, when one thought about it. He would have been all the rage at the pet shop on Diagon Alley!

Maybe he belonged to a wizarding family, yet, Snape thought. That would not be surprising, really...

Tha cat was watching him with an innocent and astounded look. The slightly lost look of someone wondering where he was, who he was, and what he might be doing here...

Snape shook his head.

"Very well. I suppose that I can't put you back out in the wild like that, can I, Cat Who Lived ? Accio jumper."

With a determined gesture, he laid an old jumper on the edge of the fireplace and firmly settled the cat on it.

"Accio fish."

Some fish leftovers he had used to prepare a potion joined the plate from which the cat had drunk and Snape put it near the jumper.

The young cat rushed on the tin and devoured its content with the full enthousiasm of a starved cat.

Snape amusedly watched him. A starved, beaten cat... he prefered to think that his owners were searching for him right now, and had nothing to do with the animal's misfortunes. One Potter martyr was enough !

Satisfied, sated, the pain finally gone, the young cat collapsed heavily onto the jumper.

"I presume that is what is called feline grace?"stated the Potions Master, raising an eyebrow.

The cat blinked in reply, before falling into a deep sleep, a young cat asleep with a full belly… 

The cat didn't awake for the rest of the day.

Leaving his potions for a moment, Snape stopped to look at the young sleeping cat and was overtaken by a sudden urge to yawn. This cat was contagious... how long had it been since he'd slept like that soundly, without a worry on his mind?

Some years, he thought, far too many years.

He reflexively grabbed his Mark. Nothing. Nothing yet. What was happening? The fog had still not faded away, chilling the air.

He had a sudden urge to contact Malfoy; maybe he would know something… He abandoned the idea, it was too dangerous. He could not risk arousing his suspicions. After the Ministery fiasco, everything had become frustratingly complicated..

A sound pulled him from his thoughts: something was tapping on the small windowpane. . He raised he head: an owl was knocking with the full force of her beak, an envelope tied to her leg.

Snape was to her in a second and instantly recognized the writing on the parchment.

" Severus,

"Meeting of the Order of the Phoenix tonight.

Your attendance is required,

"Albus Dumbledore"

Snape groaned; this meeting was not planned, it could only mean two things: either the Dark Lord had attacked again, or the Golden Boy had got himself into trouble, the two situations not necessarily being mutually exclusive.

Worried and annoyed, he threwthe parchment into the fire. He didn't like the look of this mist... He would have to go back to the Death Eaters this evening, whether he was summoned or not. He had to know.

He looked at the sky again : the day was nearly over.. Before leaving the dungeon, he made sure the cat was still asleep; he probably should have left him in a safer place; Merlin only knew what mischief he could get into while he was not watching him... but the cat did not seem to be ready to awake, and Snape decided to be indulgent..

After all, the cat had diverted him with his presence and had not moved the whole day. Let him sleep, tomorrow he would set him free so that he could go back to his home.

He threw a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace and stepped through the green flames. The next moment, he was at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and he instantly knew by the faces around him that he had been right.

The trouble was starting again..

* * *

Much thanks to Raewhit, my wonderful bi-lingual beta-reader, who did all the work really;I am awful at translating my own fic in English ! 

I owe you a whole box of chocolate frogs ;-)


	4. Chapter 4 Missing

**Chap 4 : Missing**

"Severus, we were waiting for you," Dumbledore welcomed him, his gaze solemn. Around him, the tense faces of the Order members were staring at him, their expressions a mixture of accusation and doubt.

Snape nodded in greeting." The meeting notice just reached me. What has happened ? "

Dumbledore sighed.

"Sit down. All of you ," he added to include the other members, who settled around the table reluctantly. Tension in the room was palpable.

"Have I missed something ?" Snape snapped.

"That's what we would bloody like to know," Moody roared, his magical eye staring fiercely at Snape.

"Alastor, there is no need to raise your voice, Severus will be able to have his say as soon as he knows why we are all gathered here tonight," Dumbledore said with a conciliatory gesture.

" If someone would just speak up," the Potions Master said curtly. He sensed the Order members tense at his words.

"Harry's gone missing ! That's what you missed, Severus!" Tonks spat out, her hair changing from color to color in her agitation.

Stunned, Snape held his breath for a moment. Strangely enough, the first thought that crossed his mind was to offer them a Potter Cat as a replacement. He caught himself just in time, but Tonks had leapt out of her chair.

"Just look at him ! It made him smile ! He's a traitor, I told you he was ! He knew ! Where's Harry ? Where is he ? Answer at once, you sorry…"

Molly Weasley stood to hold the young woman back, as Dumbledore raised his voice to be heard. There was no longer any trace of humor left on Snape's pale face. What had he been thinking ? There was nothing laughable about Potter's disappearance, as irritating as the boy was!

"Severus, do you know anything about this ?"

The piercing blue eyes of Hogwarts' headmaster scrutinized him intently. All of the other faces around him were hostile and accusing. They all worshiped Saint Potter, and despite of his antipathy for the boy, Snape had to admit that his moment of distraction, however short, had been ill-timed and inappropriate. What if he had suffered a similar moment of weakness in the presence of the Dark Lord ? He would've been dead in a moment, he thought.

An irritating feeling of guilt overcame him. He shook his head.

"No, not at all. I've had no contact with the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters in over a week. Potter was being watched, as I've informed you, but the wards around the house were strong and no attack was planned for the near future."

He paused. Molly Weasley's shoulders seemed to bend under a heavy burden, Dumbledore looked ten years older, and the mood in the room had suddenly morphed from anxiety to discouragement.

"I believe you, Severus," came the calm voice of Dumbledore. "But we will need more information..."

The spy nodded.

"Maybe we could start with this? What exactly happened ?"

"Harry disappeared last night."

"On his birthday," added Mrs. Weasley with a sob

"Yes, Molly, but we will find him again… Severus will see to that," Dumbledore said, his trusting blue eyes fastened on Snape, who swallowed with difficulty.

Yes indeed, he seemed condemned to have to save Potter's neck at least once a year, to keep the earth on its axis.

"In any case," Dumbledore went on, "Harry actually disappeared during the night. What we do not understand is how."

"Did he willingly leave the house ?"asked Snape, resisting the urge to add, "in a bid for attention."

"It is not that simple," the headmaster sighed. "It would seem that after a violent argument, Harry's uncle, with the consent of his aunt, told him that he was no longer welcome. After ordering him to pack and leave their house, his uncle said he left him alone in his room. He did not see him come out, and the window, although open, has bars on it; Harry could defenitely not have fled that way. What's more, all his belongings were left behind, including some things to which he is very attached..."

"Those bloody Muggles," Moody grumbled. "Can't trust them. I told you, Albus, you can't rely on Muggles !"

"His family, Alastor,"Dumbledore quietly replied. "What seemed to be the safest and most appropriate place.."

Snape thoughtfully tapped his finger against his cheek. One could hardly blame those Muggles for not being able to stand the arrogant brat, but to deprive him of the blood wards that were protecting him seemed a bit excessive. What could the boy have done to make himself so unbearable to his relatives?

"I suppose that's not all of it ?" he asked.

"No," Dumbledore agreed. "A few moments after Harry's uncle told him he was no longer welcome, two Death Eaters arrived."

Snape straightened in his chair. They certainly hadn't wasted any time ! And what was the Order of the Phoenix doing at that time?

"And so ?" he asked, afraid of the answer

"Well, there lies the mystery. Apparantly, the Death Eaters did not find anything. They scared the Dursley family, but did not waste anymore time with them. It seems that they left empty-handed... but as for that, my boy, there is only one way to be sure."

Snape nodded.

"I am surprised that the Dark Lord has not summoned me yet. There would be nothing strange in my going to him by myself, though I will not hide the fact of this meeting nor its purpose..."

Dumbledore lifted a hand and squeezed the professor's shoulder.

"It is necessary, Severus. We need to know. If Harry has been captured..."

At that moment, Snape grimaced and suddenly grabbed at his Mark. All eyes turned to him.

"Behold the solution to the problem," he said in a dull voice. Then, he turned to Dumbledore. "If I learn that the Death Eaters have actually captured Potter, I will not be contacting you until I can bring him back, or at least locate him. If that is not the case, I will let you know as soon as possible."

The old wizard nodded gravely. The Order members around him were watching Severus a bit guiltily. Snape's eyes swept over their faces with a contemptuous look.

"Get the infirmary ready. If Lucius or Bellatrix have got their hands on Potter, they certainly will have earned the right to play with him..."

Without waiting for a reaction, he threw a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace and announced,"Snape Manor!"

The potions were on the table, tucked in a leather bag, ready for a hasty departure. Snape glanced at the fireplace : the cat had cracked an eye open at his arrival, but had not so much as got up. For the space of a second, the cat's presence had the odd effet of untying the knot that had formed in his chest. Without wasting anymore time, Snape grabed the bag and put his hand on his Mark.

With a loud crack, he Disapparated from the laboratory.

* * *

thanks again to RaeWhit who did a wonderful job in correcting the whole chapter ( and really fast too! )!

And thank you for the lovely reviews, I promise that there are reasons and answers for all of your questions ;-)


	5. Chapter 5 Of Cats and Potions

**Chap 5 : Of Cats and Potions **

The cat lazily flicked an ear. With a loud noise, the Man In Black had just disappeared right before his eyes! Was that strange…or what?

The question could wait. He yawned, displaying a wide mouth equipped with small sharp teeth. He was feeling good, warm, and comfortable; he was not hungry anymore and his injuries were nothing but a distant memory.

He vaguely mused that the situation was exceptionally pleasant. He felt a little befuddled… something was scratching his neck. He raised a leg before awkwardly putting it back on the ground. Scratching… ah yes! Frantically kicking with his hind leg, he rid himself of the unpleasant sensation, making the strange thing around his neck jingle. Ah, relief!

It was strange, really, how the least little move seemed unfamiliar. He snorted and sat up on the jumper, dispelling the last traces of sleep. He quickly glanced around him: the room was huge, illuminated only by an air vent and torches affixed to the stone wall. A cauldron was heating slowly in a corner, there were shelves everywhere, along with small vials, odd instruments, and books… The room was full, yet orderly.

Familar, and yet foreign.

He whipped his tail in frustration. Had he ever been here before? No.

But where had he been before?

He thought he could remember a small room, a window, bars, the full moon… and after that? Everything was a blur. He could see himself runing toward a large building, light, so light, and yet his leg pained him with every step... something kept telling him that he should find refuge there, at the manor. He'd heard a noise and hidden under a bush. Then the Man In Black had caught him and brought him here... Right, but before that?

The cat licked his nose with his tongue. He couldn't remember before that. Did he even have a name?

Cat, the Man In Black had said.

Strange person, this Man In Black. He had a deep, sometimes threatening, and at the same time, entrancing voice. A voice that frightened him, but discouraged him from runing away. Where did he know this voice from? Something deeper resonated in his memory, but he couldn't put his finger on it... or his paw, rather.

Leaving the matter for now, the cat looked at his dish. Empty. Too bad, maybe there would be more fish when the Man In Black returned? What to do in the meantime? Well, what were cats supposed to do? And why was he even wondering? He was a cat, for Merlin's sake!

His fur stank of the salve that the Man In Black had put on it, and he decided that thorough bath would be a good way to remedy that. Concentrating, he gave an enthusiastic lick to his leg, then started to cough : no way! This was totally absurd, he had hairs on his tongue! What was he thinking? The Man In Black had washed him eariler and it had been fine that way! How on earth did cats manage to... damn, he was a cat!

Perplexed, he lounged for a moment. The vials definitely reminded him of something... they were definitely worth having a closer look.

Gathering his courage, he tried to jump onto the table, before crashing to the ground with a total lack of dignity.

Appalled, he checked quickly around him: great, nobody had seen him. Well, he had miscalculated the distance; that could happen to anyone, couldn't it?

Gathering himself, he crouched and made a leap that landed him on the table, one leg giving out under his weight. His heart was pounding in his chest; maybe his leap had been lacking in grace, but here he was! He paused briefly; the leap had appeared phenomenal. When he'd jumped, his take-off had been incredible... how many times higher than his height had he sprung? It was like flying with a ... a... he couldn't remember. No matter, it was perfectly normal for a cat. Cats were good jumpers. And elegant, too. Indeed.

Sensing that his legs would obey him again, he started to explore the huge wooden table. Staggering a bit, he navigated himself between the vials. A plethora of smells accosted his nose, and the fumes made his eyes blurry; his head was starting to spin. He had to sit for a moment... He sat his behind on the table when he felt something against his... his what? His tail, damn it, his tail which he had totally fogotten, and which had just knocked over a vial! He jumped to catch it, and stretched out his... paw? Stunned, he watched as the vial crashed to the stone floor below him, and then fragmented into thousands of tiny bits, making a frightening sound.

_"Potter! __You are not here to destroy everything you touch! Fifteen points from Gryffindor !" _

From the depth of his mind, the voice paralysed him. Who? What? But the doors of his memory had shut again, and the cat could only stare, dismayed, as the potion seeped in between the tiles. Something told him that the Man In Black wasn't going to like this…

Opting for the innocence card, he hastened to jump to the floor and climbed back onto his jumper, where he curled up in a ball, his tail around him. He would best remember its existence, as it was useful for balance when jumping , but also took odd liberties when he forgot to control it!

His nose tucked under the object of his concern, he eventually went back to sleep.

It was the same noise that awakened him again : CRACK!

He started. He didn't like waking up with a jump. His eyes sought out the origin of the noise: the Man In Black had just reappeared! Oh, maybe he was going to have something to eat! The memory of the vial crashing to the floor suddenly hit him, and he hid his nose in his fur again, pretending to sleep. Not him. Didn't do anything. No no no, slept on the jumper, didn't move ! At all.

Assuming the most innocent of expressions, he waited, tracking the Man In Black out of the corner of his eye.

Snape put the heavy leather bag on the table. He would have to quickly find the necessary ingredients for the Dark Lord's potions; he was going to run out of time… and the master was not by nature a patient man. Especially now that Potter had once more slipped through his fingers.

His eye was caught by fragments of glass on the floor.

" Potter!" he roared, before correcting himself, "Cat!"

The cat lifted an innocent and surprised nose.

" Who else, you little hypocrite!"

Grabbing the cat by the scruff of his neck, he lifted him to eye-level.

"So? I can't take points from you, you stupid and disgraceful animal, but I am very tempted to put you outdoors!"

The cat gave him an unhappy and confused look. Snape examined him more closely: his wounds were beginning to heal, but they were probably still painful. Why did cats have to be so curious and systematically ruin the potions most difficult to brew?

Groaning, he put the cat back on the floor and started to gather up the debris.

It was definitely a bad day. And now, he had to go and find Dumbledore to make his report, which would only afford him a measure of relief. At least, Dumbledore did not have that dreadful habit of cursing people with _Cruciatus_ when he was unhappy...

He threw a suspicious glance at the cat who had taken refuge under a closet.

He had taken on the responsibility to heal this cat and could not decently put it back outside in this state… The corner of his lips curled slightly.

" Very well, my little friend. We are going to kill two birds with one stone."

Cutting a new piece of fish, he put it in the bowl, followed quickly by two potions. A few drops of artificial flavoring on top of it...

" Dinner is served! "

Forgetting his fear, the cat rushed to the dish and began to empty it as quickly as possible.

"No style, no dignity. The spitting image of your human counterpart. "

He watched the cat finish its food with a slow smile. Hardly had he swallowed the last bite, than the cat suddenly felt drowsy… He had no time to think about reaching his jumper before he was already asleep, his head in the empty dish.

Snape lifted him and gently laid him on the jumper.

" Lion or cat, one is never wary enough with a Slytherin, let that be a lesson for you..."

For a moment, he watched the black cat who had curled up into a ball. One less thing to worry about. What a pity he couldn't deal that easily with human problems, in particular a certain Gryffindor student...

Snape scowled. Potter. It was time to go and find Dumbledore... With a determined gesture, he threw another fistful of Floo poweder in the fireplace.

"Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts!"

One stride later, he was in the Headmaster's office. The portraits watched his arrival with curiosity; Fawkes greeted him with a welcoming song to which he had become accustomed. The Potions Master was surprised to realize that this very room was the most soothing place he had ever known. The only place where he could, for a few moments, stop pretending and feel safe.

A feeling that was mainly due to the presence of the long, silver-haired wizard who was looking at him benevolently , a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

" Severus, what a pleasure to see you! Come in, take a seat!" The man's relief was obvious.

Snape did as he was told. He suddenly felt very tired and accepted the comfort of armchair with gratitude. Dumbledore seemed to understand, and he gave the Potions Master a moment to relax.

"Tea, Severus?"

Snape shook his head and straightened up. The muscles in his back were aching; the sleepless nights had not been kind to him, and the Cruciatus curses the Dark Lord seemed so fond of hadn't helped much, either.

" He was not captured," he finally announced, forestalling the questions to come. He saw the old wizard relax in his turn, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His relief was short-lived, though, and worry, even if slightly lessened, returned to his weary look.

" Thank Merlin. Are you sure?"

" Absolutely. Your information was correct, Lucius and Bellatrix left empty-handed. "

Snape saw the Headmaster frown.

" Yes, they were on duty that night. They are the most diligent watchers of Privet Drive. A great privilege... the Dark Lord bestows on them a high degree of trust. In any case, they actually witnessed the destruction of the wards that protected Potter, when his uncle told him he was no longer welcome at home. It took them only a few minutes to make sure that the coast was clear and enter the house of these damned Muggles… "

He paused to take a deep breath.

" Apparently, Potter took advantage of those few minutes to flee, however he did it. Probably by Disapparating, I can't figure out any other explanation..."

Dumbledore nodded.

" That is a possibility. However, Harry doesn't know how to Disapparate on his own, someone would have had to come and collect him; someone who would have known about the failing of the wards before Lucius and Bellatrix, and been faster than they. Anyway I look at it, I do not think it is plausible."

" Not very likely, no, " Snape acknowledged. "Lestrange and Malfoy are not what you could call beginners, and their zeal was beyond reproach. Evidently, that was not the Dark Lord's opinion..." he added with a dark smile.

"No," Dumbledore said softly , "I suppose, in fact, that Voldemort has not appreciated the outcome of this little adventure…"

" Mild understatement," Snape muttered. "Bellatrix and Lucius were terrified at the idea of having to explain to their master how close they came to handing him Potter on a silver platter. They'd thought for a moment that they won the Death Eater Finale Cup... just before the Snitch escaped. It is safe to say that even if Potter was still at Privet Drive, Lestrange and Malfoy wouldn't have been in any shape to ensure their guard there for a long time. The Dark Lord was very upset, and he generously shared his disapointment with his circle."

Dumbledore's expression became pained as he intensely watched his Potionsteacher.

" And I suppose, Severus, that you were not immune to his wrath…"

Snape didn't blink.

" Voldemort seems to share the common belief that I am responsible for Potter's fate. It was thus logical that I would equally share Lucius and Bella's punishment; all the more because I didn't have any satifying news to bring to appease his dissatisfaction."

Dumbledore suddenly seemed even older and more tired that a moment before.

" Severus, my boy… I know we are asking much from you… a bit too much, perhaps. "

Snape shrugged in annoyance.

" My choices were made a long time ago, and I didn't need anyone to enforce them. No need to waste your pity on my fate, Dumbledore. You and I know perfectly well it is still too merciful compared to what it could be... and we don't have more time to waste on this matter. Now that we know what did not happen to Potter, we need to know what actually occured in that house. As exceptional as this child is supposed to be, he couldn't have disappeared in the blink of an eye."

Dumbledore shook his head.

"No, it's unlikely. It is a great relief to know that he is not in the hands of Voldemort, but his disappearance remains alarming. I have no doubt that Harry would have headed straight for the Burrow or Hogwarts if he had had the opportunity to do so, and if he had been rescued by an ally… why did this one not bring him back to us? No, I am afraid that Harry, wherever he is, is not safe … but if Voldemort has not yet managed to find him, there is still room for optimism. We must now begin to consider all possibilities, to follow all leads. Can I count on you, Severus?"

"Of course," he dryly replied.

Snape sank a little deeper in his chair as he thought. Over the years, the boy had become an expert on sneaking around the castle, but could that really have helped him to escape the Death Eaters? James' invisibility cloak would have been useless…  
He tapped his finger against his cheek. A very distrubing idea had just crossed his mind...

"Albus, is there a possibility, even a slight one, that Potter could be an Animagus?"

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow.

"An Animagus, Severus? Well, although his father and godfather managed to become one right under my nose and beard, Harry has been nearly constantly under watch since his arrival at Hogwarts. Considering all that has happened to him since then, I doubt very much that he was able to acquire that skill without me knowing it."

Snape kept on staring off into space, unsettled.

" Any reason for you to think about that, Severus? "

" Perhaps," the Potions Master said. "I trust your judgment, Albus, however, I ask you to consider my question carefully ... Is there any chance it could have happened?"

The old wizard threw him a piercing glance through which a growing curiosity sparked.

" Well, I think there is only one way to be sure. It is ten in the morning, I think that Mr Weasley and Miss Granger must be awake by now."

He stepped to the fireplace and threw in a handful of Floo powder.

" The Burrow!"

Pushing his head into the green flames, Dumbledore cast a quick glance around him.

" Molly! I do hope I am not disturbing you? "

" Professor Dumbledore! Do you have any news of Harry? " asked the plump woman who was busily preparing the breakfast table.

" Severus just came back with some reassuring news ; we still don't know what happened to Harry, but Voldemort played no part in his disapearance. "

Molly Weasley let out a loud sigh of relief and threw herself into the nearest chair.

" Thank Merlin… Ron and Hermione will be so relieved ! I'm at a loss over what to do to keep them from trying to find him on their own! They're sick with worry... as we all are."

" Precisely, Molly. Are the children awake? I would like to talk to them for a moment in my office, if you don't mind."

" Of course. I'll get them. "

A moment later, the voice of Mrs Weasley could be heard, and Ron and Hermione rushed into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger."

" Professor Dumbledore! " they both exclaimed at the same time. "How is Harry? Where is he?"

"I regret to say that I do not know yet, but we are now sure that he was not kidnapped by Voldemort. "

The two teenagers let out a cry of relief.

" If you have a moment, would you two come to my office, please?"

Puzzled, the two children nodded, and then stepped through the fireplace as soon as Dumbledore's head had disapeared.

The first thing Ron saw as he stepped into the Headmaster's office was the Potions professor, sitting in his armchair with his legs crossed. Ron couldn't help but make a face and then turned to Dumbledore with a questioning look.

A reassuring smile on his lips, the Headmaster motioned for them to sit down.

" Ron, Hermione, I know that Harry's safety is your main concern."

Both teens nodded with conviction.

" I also know that he considers you as his best friends and keeps no secrets from you. " Dumbledore went on, "However, I have a question to ask you. A very important question about Harry. No matter the answer, I beg you to tell me the truth... You understand, I think, that it is now a matter of life and death, don't you?"

Again, Ron and Hermione nodded, more and more intruigued.

" Good… the friendship between the three of you shares many common points with the one that once bonded Remus, Sirius and James. I also know that you do not disagree with that comparison, and that you will gladly follow in their footsteps. Ron, Hermione, did Harry ever think about becoming an Animagus like his father?"

Ron and Hermione stood with their mouths gaping. The two wizards were watching them closely, mindful of their reactions.

" No! " Ron was the first to cry out. " No, not at all! We talked about it when we found out about Moony, Prongs and Padfoot, but... no, we would have never had the patience, the time..." He shot Hermione an apologetic look. "Well, I suppose it would have been easy for Hermione, but... no!"

Hermione, recovered from her surprise, agreed.

" No, Professor. Harry never seriously considered it. And he couldn't ever have done it without us knowing," she said in a firmly.

Dumbledore nodded and turned to Snape.

"Does this answer your question?"

Snape nodded. He had carefully watch the two adolescents and he was sure they were not lying.

The idea was stupid, really, but the coincidence of this cat showing up at his place the very same day Potter had disappeared, with that mark on his forehead and his green eyes...

Bah. It was ridiculous, of course; half of the cat population had green eyes, and the mark itself was not extraordinary. It was probably rare, mildly amusing, but nothing exceptional.

He sighed; he'd been asked to explore every lead, and he would do it, even the most unlikely of them.

" Thank you for your time, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley. You can go back to the Burrow, and tell Molly that I thank her for the pies she sent."

" Mum doesn't know what to do to keep her mind busy," Ron groaned. "But... Professor, as you just said, you can trust us about Harry's safety. Couldn't we help with the serach?"

" My boy, you just have. I'd like nothing better than to ask for your help, but we don't have the slighest lead right now. You will be more useful by staying available in case we need other information about Harry."

Ron nodded his head reluctantly, and Dumbledore saw a glimmer of understanding flash in Hermione's eyes. The girl was not fooled by the scheme to keep them at the Burrow, but the pretext had been genuine nonetheless.

They both said goodbye to the Headmaster, and with the promise that they'd be contacted the moment he learned something about Harry, they went back through the fireplace.

Snape hadn't budged an inch, but had sunk back into his armchair. The accumulation of strain and tension had finally got to him.

Dumbledore looked at him sympathetically.

" Severus, may I ask you what made you think that Harry might have become an Animagus? "

Snape suddenly felt ridiculous. A black cat with a funny mark on his forhead, who was good at breaking potions vials ? He would rather die than to admit he was sheltering a feline version of the Golden Boy, and that he had even entertained the notion that this skinny fleabag could have been the boy...

He shook his head to get rid of the idea.

" No matter. Albus, if you don't need me for the moment… "

" Of course, my boy, " Dumbledore hastened to answer. "You deserve some sleep! I will contact you if we need your help. Do not worry about anything, you've already done a great deal for us... and for Harry."

Severus groaned.

" Potter is nothing but a symbol. A symbol and a weapon that I am not ready to give up. As for sleeping, that is not for today. The Dark Lord might not be happy with my spying for the Order, but he still needs his Potions Master. Now, if I may..."

Dumbledore nodded reluctanctly, and watched the professor walk stiffily to the fireplace. Snape worried him. Physical and nervous exhaustion would get the better of him, if his anger didn't do him in beforehand...

* * *

New chapter on :-) 

Thank you very much for your kind reviews ! I love them :-) There are no 24 chapters in French, and I am struggling to translate them in French... as they are gettig bigger, and my English not better, I realize that I may have overestimate myself... and so, if anyone was willing to help with the translation, I would be totally grateful !

A very big thank to RaeWhit who did an enormous job correcting this chapter, that really was a mess ! And Amanda ho helped too :-)

I have opened a live journal at

http://

keina-snape

.livejournal.

com/

Where I post my fanfic in French, the translation, and links to fanfics I love.

I will try to post again soon ;-)


	6. Chapter 6 By the fire

_Translation : Cyllan & Skrewt _

_Beta : Raewhit_

**Chapter 6 : By the fire**

The first thing Severus Snape did on entering his lab was check that the little monster was still asleep. He was relieved to see the cat peer up at him with the bleary-eyed look of one who has slept deeply: nothing in the room was out of place, so at least disaster had been averted today.

The cat stretched sluggishly on his jumper, finding it hard to wake up. That fish had had a strange, bitter aftertaste… and he'd fallen asleep again. There was something not quite right here … The little voice that ceaselessly kept telling him not to trust the Man had woken up.

But was it really so bad after all? He'd never slept so much in his life! Cats were said to sleep a lot… cats. Cats?

He dismissed the thought ; his mind was too foggy to think right now. The Man In Black was back ! Maybe he'd get something else to eat? He headed toward the Man unsteadily.

Snape had no time to waste. He didn't know when the Dark Lord would call him again and it was out of the question to give him another excuse to torture him. Not that he needed an excuse anyway…

He pulled out his wand and lit a fire under a cauldron. What was he going to need ? His thoughts wandered back to the Death Eater meeting. Lucius and Bellatrix had already been in a sorry state when he arrived, but their master's rage had not as of yet cooled. Much on the contrary…

Snape's ignorance of Potter's fate had aggravated his wrath. Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort and his closest Death Eaters had settled, now looked like the seventh circle of Hell, terror and suffering poisoning the atmosphere. Some Death Eaters, Lucius and Bellatrix among them, had been lying on the ground, moaning, while others had been trying to appear inconspicuous and escape Riddle's murderous rage. Broken furniture and the charred remnants of paintings littered the floor.

Snape had briefly thought that, all things considered, the Order meeting hadn't been all that bad.

He shuddered, remembering what had followed. The icy, smooth voice of the Dark Lord calling him to his side, asking him how he could have missed such an important piece of information… how could he not know what had happened to Potter, how he had escaped ? Nothing frightened Severus more than that artificially friendly voice…

When he'd finally admitted that he hadn't been able to extract any more information out of the Order, Voldemort had stopped feigning sympathy.

He'd no doubt made it very clear what he thought of his spy's incompetence, but Snape hadn't heard it. At that point, he'd been too busy trying to withstand the Cruciatus curse.

Yes, the Dark Lord had been particularly upset. When he'd finally let him go to prepare his potions, it had taken Snape several minutes to get to his feet and gather enough strength to head for the fireplace.

Now, he had to remember what the Dark Lord wanted in his next delivery…

He turned towards the cupboard and jumped. A few feet away from him, the cat was watching him, sitting on his backside, his large green eyes full of hope and curiosity.

Suddenly, Voldemort, the Death Eaters, the pain, the anguish disappeared, leaving only the comical sight of this animal watching him with his strange bleary look, with those eyes which reminded him so much of another set……

He let out a long breath, realising only then that he had been practically holding his breath back since the meeting at Grimmauld Place, breathing only shallowly.

How was this cat able to stand out in such sharp contrast to the room he was in, given this day? It was just a black cat, one of those cats who were supposed to bring bad luck and stare at you with piercing eyes, like a Legilimens, to make you ill at ease.

But this one just looked as though he didn't know what to do with himself, as if he'd just fallen from the sky with absolutely no idea of how he was supposed to act. Or be.

Kittens were always funny, he thought, and this one had still not quite grown out of being one.

"You can't be hungry already, you only ate a few hours ago!" he told the cat, who watched him, his head cocked to the side..

"Hmm. I suppose that in your case, a little extra food wouldn't hurt."

The cat watched the Man In Black as he filled his bowl with fish, adding a strange liquid to it. He licked his chops : the man truly understood him ! He'd been afraid the man would forget him, busy as he was with his potions. He had seemed tenser with each pass though the fireplace. The cat could tell from his posture that he was in pain, and even more clearly, that he was nervous.

Something told him that it would be best not to draw attention to himself when the man was like this, but he couldn't help sitting quietly, a few steps away. He would have actually enjoyed some food, but even more than that, he wished confusedly to be able to do something to calm the man…

The Man In Black had taken good care of him and given him food. Still, something deep inside of him told him that the man didn't like him. Not at all.

Yet he'd let him stay comfortably by the fire, his belly full and his wounds taken care of……

All of this confused the cat. He stayed there, watching the man as he worked, not knowing what else to do, until the man turned around and caught sight of him.

For a moment, his expression seemed pained and troubled, but then the light in his eyes gave way to a measure of amusement. His shoulders relaxed a bit, and… he'd remembered to give him some fish !

The cat was doubly pleased: not only was his bowl full, but the Man In Black seemed less upset now!

He knew that cats were not supposed to be grateful and something deep inside him told him to be wary of the man and his food. But for now, gratitude and hunger silenced all his inner voices.

Snape watched as the cat devoured the fish with its usual enthusiasm. The cat was eating as if it was afraid he'd never see food again… The more he thought about it, the less he liked that. If not for the odd collar, Severus would've without a doubt categorized it as an abused and abandoned cat. The animal never rubbed against his legs, it tensed when his hand reached out, and showed all the signs of having been mistreated.

He was tempted to examine the collar again, but gave up the idea. It would be a shame to bother the cat during his meal; the show was simply too funny.

Funny ?

Yes, the cat was funny. How anything could still manage to entertain him after recent events, and especially while the saviour of the wizarding world was still missing and maybe even dead, he didn't know which it was, but he welcomed the distraction.

If anyone ever learned that he was smiling over the antics of a young cat that evoked Harry Potter, he swore that he'd Obliviate them.

The cat licked his chops. He waited a while to see if sleep would come again, but nothing happened so he looked around with satisfaction.

The Man In Black had returned to his potions. He seemed less nervous now, but also more tired. His movements were precise but weary, as he manipulated the ingredients in silence.

The cat stretched out to watch him. His silhouette seemed familiar... those black wizard's robes, the long hair that fell to his shoulders...

_His greasy hair..._

Why did the idea amuse him? Like an old joke he would've forgotten where he'd first heard it...

A few black strands fell into his face, which was focused on his work. A veritable mask, the cat could read only determination there. What could be troubling the man so much? He didn't smile, his voice was often threatening. But somehow, this seemed both natural and familiar to the cat.

The cat lost himself in a contemplation of the man's hypnotic gestures.

_"Open your books to page 208 ." _

The cat blinked.

_"Too light. Add another root, Weasley." _

Things jumbled together in the cat's head. The Man In Black, with potions, in a dungeon, but not this one... other people...

_" Potter! If you spent as much time studying as you do signing autographs, your potions might perhaps resemble something other than soup! Five points from Gryffindor!" _

A sudden feeling of hatred for the Man In Black took the cat by surprise, then faded away. He got up and turned around in a circle..

Potter, the Man In Black had called him Potter when he'd yelled at him. Was it some sort of insult? Probably... ' Potter ' did stupid things. The Man didn't like Potter. But when he was ' The Cat ', he gave him food and paid him attention to him. Since he'd been, he'd felt safe and had no longer worried about anything.

In his memory, it seemed to him that a black cloud hovered over him menacingly... something which never went away, which oppressed him, against which he should have fought, but could do nothing...

Here, all of that no longer mattered. When he'd crossed over the dungeon's threshold, he'd left the hovering cloud behind. The Man In Black had chased it away by taking him in his arms...

After several hours spent grinding, mixing, stirring and boiling, Snape was finally able to look up from his workbench. Everything was ready; the only thing left to do was to wait for his potions to finish heating or settling. He was finally going to be able to take a potion to relieve the pain that Cruciatus had seared into his muscles. He'd been afraid that without that constant burning sensation, he wouldn't have been able to concentrate enough to finish his work. He'd never needed much sleep, not even when he'd been a student at Hogwarts, but Voldemort's little games had drained his energy.

The worry, as well…

He settled himself carefully in the room's only armchair, opposite the fireplace. The cat watched him, eyes half-closed, while he drank the potion. The tension bled slowly out of his body, leaving his mind free to wander.

He reviewed the course of his long day. First of all, this cat, come out of nowhere, covered in blood. Then the meeting at Grimmauld Place and Potter's disappearance. The general hostility. Voldemort's call, his interrogation, his dissatisfaction – once again. No matter what he did, it never seemed to be enough.

He looked at the cat, which hadn't taken its eyes off him. It looked half-intrigued, half-afraid to see him up so close. He stretched out his hand to touch it and the cat hunched slightly away from him.

"Let's see how you're doing... your wounds look better. They're not fully closed yet, but they should heal up well. It looks like you haven't tried to lick them... odd little cat".

He thought for a moment. Yes, the wounds had responded well to the salve. The cat seemed more comfortable, more lively than when he'd found it, which wasn't at all surprising, considering how much he'd eaten. But Severus felt that he might fall asleep, and a lively, curious cat in a lab full of unstable potions was exactly what he didn't need. He thought about shutting the cat in a room... But the day was so lovely, he said to himself, looking out the basement window. Surely a young cat would be better off playing outside, now that his wounds weren't troubling him so much.

Of course, there was always the chance that the cat would go home and never come back... But it would be just as well, Snape decided..

He looked at the little black body curled up on his sweater. The animal had been the only positive thing in these past two days of vigil. Who knew, maybe it would come back when it was hungry, now that it had found a full bowl?

The Potions professor stood and took the cat in his arms.

"Time to go. You must be wanting your freedom. I hope that you'll have the intelligence not to go back to whoever did this to you..." he said, running his hand over the fur of the trembling cat.

The cat's heart was beating like it would burst. All his muscles tensed as he felt the Man In Black carry him up the stairs, open the heavy wooden door, and set him down in the grass.

"Take care of yourself, Cat," said the man in a low voice, before turning on his heel and closing the door on the cat..

Paralyzed, the cat didn't dare to move at first. He felt the wind in his fur, then heard a crackling from somewhere behind him and leapt into the air.

The lab! He wanted to go back down, to be warm, on the sweater, near the Man In Black! Why had he put him outside?

He looked around. Where to go? What to do? He wasn't afraid, but he didn't feel safe either. Even though his wounds weren't really hurting him anymore, he still needed rest. Caring. Food. Protection? Just for a little while, before the black shadow came back….

Lost, the cat took a few steps in the grass. Trailing along the wall, he looked despairingly for another opening.

A few meters from the door, he finally found a break in the wall, an arch with bars over it... He shivered. He didn't like bars... But beyond the bars, there was a window. And behind that window, he could see the familiar shadows of the dungeon, the fireplace, the table, the shelves... and the Man In Black who had finally fallen asleep in his armchair.

"Better than nothing," he thought.

And he curled up in a ball against the window.

Snape dreamt of the Dark Lord.

Not too surprising, giveng recent events, he mused, vaguely aware he was dreaming.Voldemort was unhappy. Lucius and Bellatrix's faces were twisted. Dumbledore was disappointed. Tonks, Moody and the Weasleys were glaring at him accusingly.

"You must protect Harry! Where is Harry?"

The faces swirled around him.

The eyes... and in the middle of them, a pair of green ones that looked at him differently..

_"Thank you... "_

Lily?

But the face changed. No, not Lily; Potter. No, not Potter either...

The cat sprang from the circle of his accusers and bounded to his side. It winked at Severus conspiratorily, then took up a stand between Severus and the others.

"He took care of me! Don't you dare say anything!"

Snape woke up with a start.

That cat!

His gaze drifted to the deserted jumper at the side of the fireplace. He felt a moment of doubt, but no, he had put the cat out before going to sleep. Feeling slightly guilty, he thought that he could have fed him beforehand… if only to reward him for having defended him in a dream.

What was the time? He looked up at the air vent and startled.

Two green eyes, full of hope, were watching him. It had started to rain and the cat was trembling slightly, but seemed to have no intention of moving,looking into the lab through the window, as if he would've liked to Apparate to the inside..

Grumbling, Snape climbed the stairs and opened the door. The cat left his niche, soaked with rain, and gave the Potions Master a distraught look.

"Why didn't you go home? Are you still too weak? It's ridiculous to sit there in the rain like that!"

Severus was troubled; this cat truly didn't behave like an ordinary cat. He motioned to the door with his chin.

"Come on, go in."

The cat seemed to hesitate, but didn't move, his gaze more questioning than ever.

Snape grumbled again and went to pick up the cat. The cat froze, but didn't try to fight as the man took him back into the dungeon.

Snape refused to admit it, but he felt somewhat satisfied…

Snape soon had to admit to the evidence: the cat had absolutely no intention of leaving. He'd immediately retaken possession of his jumper, of the laboratory, and obviously of the Potions master himself.

At the beginning, Snape had put the cat outside each time he'd had to leave for a while ; the animal hadn't liked it at first, but then, realising that his exile was only temporary, it had used the time to take a bit of sun..

But he was always at the door or the air vent when the Man came back to get him…

The rest of the house didn't interest him. He'd been tempted to follow Snape when he invited him to do so, but he didn't like the thought of leaving the protection of the dungeon. So, he'd contented himself with watching worriedly as the man walked away, wishing he would stay with him by the fire…

Snape hadn't insisted. In a way, the cat was now part of the decor of the laboratory. He watched him brewing potions for hours, lying on his jumper or seated on a chair, a discreet and friendly presence and… yes, comforting too, as strange as that might seem. The green eyes blinked each time their eyes met, as if to say, "Well done!" and while the whole world seemed to reproach him for his incompetence, this look of approval had a value all its own..

And Snape got used to the cat's presence far more quickly than he would have thought. Outside, the wizarding world was shaken and shouting. Potter's disappearance had not been made public, but the rumour was spreading like wildfire…

The Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters had both pulled out all the stops to be the first to find the precious brat, and Snape, stuck between them, was playing mediator. Both sides intended to make him an active participant, and to get him to extort as much information as possible from the other.

Of course, neither Voldemort nor the Order was given the slightest lead, and both were both equally unhappy with his services.

Only Dumbledore and Molly Weasley still took the trouble to encourage him, acknowledging his thankless part in this affair ; but the more time passed, the more tensions mounted and tongues became sharper.

The chances of finding Potter alive were dwindling. Many thought that he had splinched himself, trying to Apparate alone, or that he'd ended up in the middle of an ocean or in some other del sp place just as stupid as well as dangerous.

The Dark Lord himself started to believe it. Only the fear of a trap prevented him from spreading the news of Potter's death. Nothing could better demoralise the wizarding world than the loss of its hero and hope…

Snape himself was becoming more and more pessimistic. As arrogant as Potter was, he had this vision of wanting to try to save the world that made him almost credible in the role of Champion of the Light. And now, because of this untalented and uninteresting brat, the wizarding world was on the verge of collapse…

The cat was for the moment the only living being of his acquaintance that was not shaken by the whole affair, and who still considered him a perfectly respectable and interesting person. Snape was very grateful to the cat for this.

After a week had passed, Snape had to admit that the animal had decided to set up house in the laboratory, and not just for a temporary visit

He looked at the cat who seemed lost in the contemplation of his gestures.

"So, Cat? Do you like it here?"

The cat blinked.

"Then I suppose I have no say in it. Or, perhaps, just one thing. If you must stay here, we will have to find you a more fitting name than 'Cat'. "

The cat looked up again at the familiar word.

Snape thought, "Hmm' Cat' seems to suit you…. Catsbie, Caton? No, ridiculous. It should be something more appropriate for a laboratory cat."

He pondered for a moment.

"What would you say to Shadow ? "

The cat inclined its head and blinked.

"Shadow it is, then."

Severus returned to his potions. He had rarely felt so ridiculous in all his life, speaking to a cat and giving it a name. But, the animal had managed to soften him. He could blame the tension of the last few weeks, the hopelessness of the situation, the hostility or the general antipathy towards him; the result was the same. He had developed an affection for this black cat who did not behave like a cat and who had Potter-like mannerisms.

People might think whatever they wanted, he had every intention of keeping the cat for as long as it wanted to remain.

It seemed to Snape that the cat wanted to prove that it deserved the status of Potions Cat. Snape had dozed off in its presence several times or had forgotten it when leaving hastily, but the animal had never again got into mischief. It sat or lay quietly where there was no risk of breaking or disturbing anything and did nothing to draw attention to itself.

It was altogether strange, mused Snape, more than a week after he had recovered Shadow. He had never heard the cat meow, neither to ask to go out or come in, nor for food. It contented itself with sitting by its bowl or by the door, waiting almost apologetically to be noticed.

In many ways, it didn't behave like its fellow cats. For example, it did not seem very keen on the idea of cleaning itself. Snape had seen it try to give its fur a lick or two several times, before coughing and spitting in disgust, which never failed to make Snape smile in spite of himself.

One day during a downpour, when the cat sat by the door, the Potions master wondered what was going through its head. He climbed up and opened the door, watching the animal as he did so. He saw it run into the rain towards the outfall of a gutter and jump happily under the falling water, with the satisfaction of someone showering after a trying day.

Snape had never claimed to understand animals, but his jaw dropped nonetheless. After a few minutes spent soaking itself under the water, the cat had seemed satisfied and rejoined the Potions master, who had stayed to watch the cat in the rain, not able to keep from observing the spectacle.

"Shadow ! Are you sure you didn't forget your soap? Are you the only one not aware that cats are supposed to hate water and wash themselves? What are you doing outside? "

The cat looked at him with its head cocked to one side, as it always did when it listened attentively to the Potions master.

The man sighed.

"I suppose I'm going to have to carry you downstairs, soaked through like that? Very clever, actually, worthy of your double, Mr Potter!"

The cat hung its head a bit more. He didn't like that name.

The man took the cat in his arms. Shadow climbed the stairs alone, but always seemed to fear going down, so Snape had got into the habit of carrying it. At first, the cat held itself stiffly in his arms until it was put down again, but after a while was able to relax and now seemed to appreciate being carried.

Once on the ground again, the cat ran to the hearth to warm up again. The fire was low and the cat almost had to scorch its fur in its efforts to get dry.

Snape hesitated. All the evidence suggested that the cat had no intention of licking itself. He shook his head and tookdel sp a clean towel from his wardrobe. Sitting in the armchair, he caught hold of the cat and settled it on his knees, wrapping it in the towel.

Shadow stayed still. What was happening? He felt like a prisoner, as hands started rubbing his fur with a type of blanket… He relaxed a bit. It was the Man In Black, who never hurt him and it wasn't so unpleasant really…. Not unpleasant at all, in fact!

The cat melted into the towel and closed its eyes.

Snape smiled in spite of himself. Shadow didn't seem to be used to being touched, much less rubbed, but from his expression it seemed there was no objection. Snape massaged the cat's head gently, so as not to hurt it. The cuts had closed up, but they'd been deep enough to still hurt… though not at the moment, judging by the cat's blissful demeanor .

Something was missing, though. Yes, Snape realized, a normal cat would've purred. This one purred no more than it meowed.

Something told him that this animal had had little reason to purr in its lifetime.

Snape was not a demonstrative person, neither with people nor animals, and he appreciated the fact that the cat was not of the sort to stick close to him all the time, begging for pets. Still, he would have preferred that the animal not startle at the slightest sudden movement or tense when he reached out to touch it..

A sudden pain in his forearm made him jump. The Dark Lord was calling him. He felt suddenly guilty. He was busy looking after a cat while a war was on the horizon. Thank Merlin, all his potions were ready. He looked at the cat who was almost asleep on the towel. He lifted it carefully and put it on the armchair. He hoped the cat would stay there so he wouldn't be in danger of stepping on it when he returned.

Throwing a fistful of powder into the fireplace, the spy reluctantly enunciated the name of Malfoy Manor and disappeared.

The cat opened an eye. Where was Man In Black ? Why had he stopped the massage? The cat didn't like it when the man left. He always came back nervous and out of sorts. He would've truly liked to have been able to do something for him. The cat was sorry he couldn't understand what was wrong. The Man In Black didn't talk much and the cat didn't always understand everything. The words made sense individually, but put together, they were often a bit confusing.

But there was one he understood very well : Shadow! This was the name the man called him and he liked it very much. It made him feel as though he belonged a bit in this place and with this man, as though he had officially offered him his protection.

Only the Man in Black called him this , of that he was sure. His own Man in Black, the one who fed him fish, who let him stay close by , where he was safe, and who carried him down the stairs. . His front leg still hurt when he had to go down the stairs, but over time, he'd mostly learnt to like being in the arms of the Man who held him firmly so he didn't fall. .

Yes, his name was Shadow. He was under the protection of the Man In Black, and he intended to do his best to protect the man as well. He'd known instinctively that he shouldn't disturb him when he was working with his vials. He had this look of concentration, brow furrowed, face hard, a look Shadow feared deep inside.

So when the Potions master turned to look at him him, he tried to put as much trust and calm into his eyes as he could ,and he saw the man relax a little, just because of the look they shared.

That made Shadow feel satisfied, even happy.

Truth be told, even if his memories before his arrival at the manor were vague; he could not recall having been so happy, so at peace.

The only thing that he still had to do was to help the Man In Black.

When the man came back through the fireplace, Shadow jumped off the armchair. He wasn't at all certain that he was allowed to be there.

The man shot him a troubled glance before collapsing in the armchair. The cat watched him breathing rapidly, his body tense and trembling slightly. The Potions master often returned tired and on edge, but never to this extent.

Shadow hesitated. With eyes closed, sprawled in his armchair, the man didn't seem to be able to catch his breath. Gathering its courage, the cat jumped delicately onto the arm of the chair and stretched out against the man's shoulder, trying with all its might to give him its calmness and warmth.

Snape jumped and looked to see what was moving against his arm. Shadow. Shadow, who looked up at him with his big green eyes full of worry. .

He tried to breathe more deeply, focusing his attention on the cat pressed against him, on the calm it radiated and on the eyes which resembled Lily's more than ever.

A few minutes later, he felt his body relax and the pain dissipate little by little. He was familiar with the Cruciatus, but rarely before had he been subjected to it for so long. Things were deteriorating, little by little,at the Order of the Phoenix as well as at Malfoy Manor.

Slowly, he succeeded in regaining control of his muscles. Grateful, he lifted a hand and scratched the cat's head. Shadow seemed as surprised as he was by the gesture, but did not shy away. For an instant, they looked at each other, an exchange of gratitude and affection.

When Snape felt himself sink into a healing sleep, he heard what he had believed to be impossible.

Shadow was purring. .

After two weeks on a diet of fish and potions, the cat appeared less terribly thin, though its ribs were still prominent. The potions seemed to be working perfectly, contrary to what Snape had feared, and the cat seemed to be adapting well to its new life. It no longer tensed as much when Snape wanted to touch it, and the lost, fearful and resigned look had become more peaceful and serene.

Snape had finally decided to transfigure a chair into an armchair identical to his own and had put the cat's jumper there. This stopped him from crushing the animal each time he used the fireplace, which was becoming more and more frequent as Potter's absence dragged on. .

He was surprised to feel himself impatient to return home , no longer just for the tranquility of the dungeon, but for the silent presence of the cat. For the little flash of relief in its eyes when he returned, for its warmth against his shoulder when he relaxed in the armchair, and especially for Shadow's calm and trusting gaze.

Strangely, he had never felt so close to a living being since…. He shook his head. He didn't want to think about that, not tonight.

He got up and walked toward the door.

"I'm going to bed. Don't get into mischief. Goodnight, Shadow."

The cat blinked and jumped onto its armchair.

Shadow.

He liked his name and the sound of the Man's voice when he said it. He liked their routine, the bowls of fish, the fire, the naps on the arm of the chair next to the Man In Black.

Of course, the man was nervous and tired, more so each time he returned. But that was Outside; here they were safe, and Shadow truly liked that he could comfort the man.

Tonight, he had left by the door to the corridor, so he would not be gone long and he would not be wounded when he returned. Perfect.

Everything was perfect, thought the cat. The black cloud which had been weighing on him was far away. For the first time, he thought that perhaps this respite might last. That the black shadow would never return.

He fell asleep, curled in a ball, with an almost human smile on his face.

When, some hours later, Severus Snape opened the door to his laboratory and looked for the cat, he could only stand, frozen in place, his mouth hanging open.

In the armchair where Shadow normally slept was an adolescent, huddled up and sound asleep.

Not just any adolescent… The messy black hair, the glasses, the scar… It could only be….

"Potter!" he shouted, in a voice more threatening than he would've liked..

The boy woke up with a start, frightened. His green eyes met those of the man, and as Snape watched, he transformed into a cat, the same black cat that had become so familiar to him, who had chosen to stay with him since the day of Potter's disappearance...

Shadow.

Harry Potter.

* * *

Here is a new chapter, which I am glad to tell was translated by my wonderful volunteer translators : Skrewt and Cyllan, and beta-ed by my always-so-wonderful beta Raewhit, who I think blessed the fact that this was not my translation ! ;-)

Though translating from a language you love to your own is really great fun, the reverse, I recently learnt, is hell. All the more if it is your own work. So a very, very big thank to my translators and RaeWhit, I am always so excited to publish a new chapter in English, I really am very grateful ! I hope you won't get bored with me too soon ;-)

And thank you for the wonderful reviews here !

Someone told me about the way I made the Dark mark work : I just wanted to say : Yeahhh, me too, that's so obvious, isn't it ? What would be the use of the damn thing otherwise ? ;-)


	7. Chapter 7 Potter !

_Translation : Cyllan _

_Beta : Raewhit_

**Chapter 7 : Potter !**

In the dungeon time seemed to come to a standstill. Man and cat stared at one another, frozen like statues.

"Potter!" Snape shouted.

The cat jumped. That name again? The Man In Black seemed furious, his expression darker than ever. The cat could read anger there, and something else like ...betrayal?

The cat made itself even smaller on the armchair. The man had never hurt him, but he had also never looked at him like that.

Snape didn't know if he should feel relieved or furious. The stupid child had been there for two weeks and had not bothered to show himself! He had taken advantage of his appearance to fool him, and had let himself be treated like a cat, laughing up his sleeve, no doubt, at the naivety of his professor. Snape clenched his teeth as he remembered the last few days... the way he had talked to the cat, had cared for and comforted it... even petted it.

That said, he could never have imagined the boy looking at him in the same way the cat did. A mixture of respect and trust, both of which were unusual for him.

Snape snarled.

"That's enough, Potter, your disguise has been discovered, resume your usual form at once. You thoughtless idiot, do you have the slightest idea of the worry you have caused everyone? The Order and Voldemort have given you up for dead and have been searching for you night and day for the last fortnight!"

Looking lost and afraid, the cat watched him. Snape realised he was shaking slightly. All the anguish that had been building since Potter's disappearance transformed slowly but surely into rage. He was hard pressed to resist the urge to throw the first thing that came to hand.

"That's enough, you blasted coward, I'm taking you to Dumbledore, and certainly not with you as a cat. This farce has gone on long enough."

The cat's eyes widened, but it didn't move.

"Very well. If I have to carry you by the scruff of the neck, I will." And he moved with deliberate steps towards the cat.

Shadow panicked. The little voice murmuring that the man meant him harm returned with a vengence. Now, here he was, advancing menacingly.

Following his instincts, the cat leapt to the floor and fled to hide under the wardrobe.

Snape gritted his teeth. Shadow had never been afraid of him before... no, not Shadow, Potter, lousy Potter who had been slipping him the mickey.

"Potter! Stop this childishness at once! You are absolutely pathetic!" he hissed.

He couldn't quite believe that the Gryffindor had fled to hide under a wardrobe. Where now was the legendary courage of lions?

"You are nothing but a thoroughly spoiled brat, incapable of thinking of anyone but yourself. Have you thought for a single moment of the consequences of your behaviour, you little wretch?"

Shadow heard the words, and these words resonated in his memory. As did the tone of voice.

The Man In Black was very, very angry. And there was no doubt about the fact that he hated him.The cat didn't know what he had done, but had no intention of leaving his place of safety to find out. He pressed himself as far away as possible against the wall.

"Very well, Potter. If that's the game you want to play..."

Snape halfheartedly got down on all fours to look for the cat, swearing fervently that he'd make him pay for that.

What he saw surprised him.The cat was hidden as far away as possible from him, breathing rapidly, slightly trembling and watching him with wide, terrified eyes.

Nothing that he saw resembled the cowardice of a spoiled 16 year old boy. This was the terror of a beaten cat who did not understand what was expected of it.

Snape sat back on his heels to think. Potter would rather have spent his holidays with Voldemort than seek refuge with him. The way the cat had acted, seeking him out, not fearing his voice... the way the cat watched him and reacted... none of this matched the boy he knew.

Was it possible that Potter didn't know he was Potter? How could he transform into a human, then back to a cat, if he didn't know he had this ability? If he didn't know who he was?

There was only one way to find out.

He got up and cut a piece of fish, which he put in the cat's bowl.

"Shadow! Dinner time!" he called, forcing himself to use the tone he normally used with the cat.

He knelt down again and watched the animal. The cat seemed confused, looking from the bowl to the Potions Master.

"Come, Shadow, come here!"

The cat didn't know what to think anymore. First the man shouted at him and acted like an enemy, and now, for reasons he didn't know, he was offering him food and speaking softly again. 

The cat hesitated for a long time, watching and listening to the man. His voice and face suggested a trap, but... this was the man.The one who protected him. He didn't want this to end, he still wanted to believe in him.

Slowly, without taking his eyes off the man, he left his hiding place and moved towards him.

Snape watched, trying to hide the turmoil he was in. Potter? Shadow? Was the boy once again making fun of him or did he really believe he was a cat?

He watched the animal cautiously approach to sit in front of his bowl without touching it, casting him a look that was both wounded and full of hope

Strangely, Snape felt his heart ache. A few minutes ago, he himself had felt betrayed, but now he was certain the cat felt the same way. Even Potter would not have been stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick. He couldn't keep from stroking the animal's head. For the last time perhaps? All this was going to become very embarassing when Potter got his memory back, but for the present, he had in front of him an anxious and unhappy cat. He watched as the cat, reassured, dug into the fish.

No, all the evidence suggested that Potter had no clue of the situation he had got himself into.

Snape headed for hearth, then threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire.

"Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts!"

He put his head in the flames and met the questioning gaze of the headmaster.

"Albus. Call the Order to Grimmauld Place immediately! It's about Potter. I'll join you there in ten minutes. Gather all who can join us."

Dumbledore raised an inquisitive eyebrow. 

"Severus?"

Snape forced a smile.

"Ten minutes, Albus. Let everyone know."

And he pulled back into the dungeon, rather satisfied and more than a little relieved.

After two weeks of reproachful, furtive looks and sly remarks, he was going to deliver their precious Potter on a silver platter. Potter wasn't dead after all. He had been here since the beginning, right under his nose... but what could have happened to the boy?

Snape was convinced he couldn't have become an Animagus at Hogwarts, but in a month, on his own, living with Muggles? Absolutely impossible. He thought back to the injuries of the cat when it'd first arrived. Had they happened before or after his transformation into a cat?

He sighed. Only Potter could answer that... still he had to remember who he was. 

"Shadow," he murmured to the cat, which had emptied its bowl. "Come here,"he said, tapping the arm of the chair.

Happier now, the cat jumped up close to the man, who picked him up and held him up in front of his face.

"Listen to me well, Shadow. I don't know what you've done, how you managed to get yourself in such a situation, here of all places, in my house. But you're going to have to work on getting your memory back. You aren't a cat at all, which incidentally explains a lot. You're a boy, a completely human one, at least that's what everyone claims; a complete disaster, yes, a pain in the neck, absolutely, with an enormous propensity to jump head first into trouble and not respect the rules. But, an adolescent who responds to the name Harry Potter, when he feels like it. An adolescent with huge responsibilities, an important part to play in this war and who, in any case, cannot allow himself remain curled up next to the fire. Have I made myself clear?" 

He felt the cat's heart beat faster during his little speech, and noticed a strange glimmer in the depth of his eyes. Defiance? Fear? Understanding? Something small, but which reminded him more of the boy he'd known. 

Shadow had listened carefully to all that he'd said. The words then formed sentences that made sense somewhere in the depths of his consciousness. Something seemed to be knocking at the door of his memory, a small hesitant sound that wanted to be understood, and that made him afraid. He didn't want to open up, not yet! He wanted to stay here, in the dungeon, with the Man In Black.

He looked at the man, searching his face. He found there something akin to pity or a hint of affection, but now the eyes were hard. The man had called him Shadow, then Potter. No more Shadow... he saw it clearly in the man's eyes.

Something broke in the cat's heart.

Very well. It couldn't have lasted forever anyway, could it? That dark cloud was still out there somewhere, and he couldn't escape it.

He let his muscles relax. What was to come would come.

Snape watched the cat, as its gaze suddenly became blank..

"Potter... you're going to have to resume your normal form. I'm taking you to Grimmauld Place where everyone is waiting for you. One way or another, you know you cannot avoid this."

The cat gave him a resigned look, which only scarcely resembled Potter. Something was deeply wrong with this cat.

Snape stood up, the animal in his arms.

"Well. I suppose I'll have to take you like this? No need for a cat carrier, no? Hold on, then."

With a heavy heart, he threw a handful of powder into the fireplace. He no longer had any desire to be furious with Potter. And he did not want to say farewell to Shadow.

At Grimmauld Place he found the members of the Order of the Phoenix waiting for him impatiently and with outright curiosity. .

"Severus, I managed to contact the majority of the members. What have you learnt?" asked Dumbledore quickly, his eyes shining.

"I've done better than to bring you information. I've brought you your famous deserter, slightly changed, I'll grant you."

He put the cat on the table amidst loud exclamations.

"I present to you Harry Tomcat Potter!"

Several cries rang out around the table, then silence. Everyone was watching the cat, not knowing how to react.

"Is this a joke, Snape?"barked Moody

"Not in the slightest," he responded in a silky voice. "For the last fortnight, I've been sheltering this flea-ridden animal. This, Albus, is the reason why I asked you if Potter could possibly be an Animagus."

Dumbledore nodded in comprehension.

"Having been assured this was not the case, I investigated no further. The cat had no real distinguishing features, apart from a rather suspect attitude regarding personal hygiene... up until the moment I found a sleeping adolescent in place of the cat, and said adolescent then transformed into a cat, right before my eyes. I'll leave it to you to guess the identity of the boy in question,"he finished with a sardonic little laugh before releasing the cat.

For a second, everyone seemed paralyzed, until they digested the information. Then everything happened very quickly: Tonks started to laugh hysterically, Mrs Weasley began to cry, Moody shouted at the cat, and Mr Weasley started to ask questions no one could make heads or tails of, while Dumbledore tried to calm everyone down.

Satisfied with the reaction, Snape laughed softly as he leant against a wall and watched.

Until the frightened cat sought refuge behind his legs. Snape stopped laughingat once ; it was one thing to have kept the cat without knowing it was none other than the Precious Potter, it was quite another to see him turn to Snape for protection, in front of the entire Order.

Clearly, the movement escaped no one's notice. 

"So, Severus, it appears that Potter has adopted you," Kingsley said, smiling.

"The cat only recognises the hand that feeds it," Snape grumbled..

There were several outbursts of laughter. Around the table the relief was palpable: Molly and Arthur supported each other, as though they had just escaped a sinking ship, and Dumbledore's face relaxed for the first time in two weeks.

Tonks got down on all fours to try to get the cat.

"Harry, Harry, come here!" She made kissing noises.

"Don't bother, Miss Tonks. Here's a second piece of critical information for you: your dear Mr Potter has not the slightest memory of being the boy who lived. As far as he is concerned, he is the 'cat', he likes fish and sleeps on a sweater near the fireplace. In other words, what you have is a stubborn cat with amnesia."

His words elicited a gasp from all those gathered. 

"By the way, he loves sardines," ended Snape in a smug and sure tone of voice.

A shocked silence followed his declaration.

"Are you sure, Severus?"asked Arthur Weasley in a trembling voice.

"Practically certain. The cat has, in any case, never behaved like Potter in my presence. The mere fact that he came and sought refuge with me bears this out. In addition, he doesn't seem to understand half of what I say. Though, given this is Potter we're talking about, such facts have little value."

All eyes were on the cat, still hidden behind the Potions Master's legs.

"Of course, there's still the possibility that Potter is nothing but an arrogant, pretentious and completely ungrateful brat who feels no appreciation for those who care about what happens to him.. I haven't ruled out this option."

"Don't be stupid, Snape, anyone can see that this cat is terrified. Poor Harry must have no idea what's happening to him,"exclaimed Tonks indignantly.

"And I must admit I would find it difficult to reprimand him for it," said Dumbledore. "I myself am having difficulty understanding what could possibly have happened. Severus, you say the cat arrived at your house the day Harry disappeared?"

Snape nodded

"I found him a short distance from my door the morning after the wards were destroyed. He was injured and obviously lost, but allowed me to catch him without trying to escape or fight. I don't know if he'd already habituated himself to being a cat by then."

"Injuries?"

Snape nodded again.

"Cuts, from what I could see. Rather difficult to see on a black cat, but there were many of them, and were fairly deep. I thought he had been beaten or caught in a trap. Whatever the cause, they are for the most part healed now. What I don't know is whether he received them in human or cat form."

Mrs Weasley let out a cry of horror.

"The Dursleys?"

Dumbledore shook his head uncertainly

"Such a thing never happened before… at least that I know."

"The cat is easily frightened, Albus," said Snape after a moment's thought, "He is wary of sudden movements and raised voices. I would prefer to think that this behaviour is that of a frightened cat with amnesia, but the reflexes seem well entrenched… I don't really know what to make of that."

"Well, the only thing to do is ask him, then!" bellowed Moody. "For Merlin's sake, we've found the boy. We'll have Harry return to his normal form and ask him the question to his face!"

"Don't count on him to cooperate, though," said Snape. "Mr Potter is very much at home in his new skin.You will have to force him."

He looked at Dumbledore in question, who nodded. Putting a few steps between himself and the cat, Snape raised his wand.

"Animagus revelio!"

A blue streak of light hit the cat, who transformed quickly into a black-haired teen-ager, right in front of the dumbfounded Order members. The boy had lost his glasses, and his torn and bloodied clothing hung pitifully on his body.

"Harry!"exclaimed Tonks, rushing towards him.

The boy jumped backward, his hands raised to protect himself. As one, Moody, Tonks and the Weasleys moved forward to comfort him. Without his glasses, Harry could only make out a confused mass of dark figures coming toward him. He tried to retreat but fell with his back against the wall. He looked around desperately and…

An instant later, a black cat dashed under an armchair, hidden from view.

"Potter in all his glory,"concluded Snape, but his heart wasn't in it. The boy's eyes had looked too much like Shadow's, even more than they did Lily's: the look of a trapped animal, a look he'd have preferred to never see on the face of the famous, arrogant little Potter.

The boy who had lived… to become a cat. Snape shut his eyes. What could've possibly happened to Potter? This new ability, this distrust? To what extent was he truly amnesic?

Without a word, the others sat down again wearily.

"I don't understand…Harry has never, ever, had any reason to be afraid of us!" sniffled Molly Weasley.

"Molly, it would appear that Harry has undergone a very traumatic experience," said Dumbledore comfortingly. "What's more, he wasn't able to recognise you at that distance without his glasses."

"Where are the bloody glasses, by the way?" growled Moody

"I don't know," replied the headmaster, "I found no sign of them at the Dursleys'. Severus?"

Snape shook his head.

"No. But the cat seemed to be able to see all right. Perhaps not as well as he should, but adequately enough for a human."

"Should we try to repeat the experiment?"asked Arthur Weasley, looking at the armchair uncertainly.

There was silence as everyone contemplated the new situation: Harry Potter had been found, but was there cause to celebrate?

"Kingsley, Alastor, Arthur, Tonks… could I ask you to leave the room for a moment? I would like Harry to feel as unthreatened as possible when we force him to resume human form again," Dumbledore instructed.

"In that case, I think it prudent for me to leave as well," said Snape, stepping towards the door.

"Not to contradict you, my boy, but you seem to be the only one Harry trusts at the moment. It would be better if you stayed." 

Snape scowled.

"If Remus could hear that..." scoffed Tonks

"If Remus were here to hear it, Miss Tonks, half our problems would be solved," replied Dumbledore gently.

The young woman bit her lip. Remus had a lot of experience with Animagi and with Harry…Yes, she missed the werewolf more than ever. Off on a mission amongst his own kind, it would take too long to reach him.

She followed Kingsley out, taking care not to make any abrupt movements. Under his armchair, the cat tried to make himself inconsequential, aware of the commotion around it.

As soon as they'd arrived, he had known he didn't like this place. It was gloomy and filled with memories of a presence which made him sad, though he didn't know why. And all these people…Too many people, What did they want with him? The Man In Black was tense too, he could feel it. And then, he'd cast a spell at him, which had made him grow…All of a sudden, so many pictures and feelings had crowded his head and made him feel sick. He had a flash of a man lifting a hand to hit him, a familiar face, and bars… When the hazy figures suddenly came towards him again, he'd panicked, without knowing how, he'd resumed his cat form and hidden himself.

For now.

He heard the door close again and knew that several people had left the room. Not enough, though; he had to be careful, all this felt like an out and out trap…

"Harry… Harry, my boy?"

A woman's voice that he recognized... It was synonymous with comfort, tenderness and food… and it seemed sad, worried, perhaps.

He would've liked to leave his hiding place and reassure her, but he couldn't manage to move. If he wanted to talk to her, he would have to use his voice… a different voice….in a different way. He didn't want to go through what he had felt when he'd transformed a few minutes before. He didn't want to remember.

But he had to try to do something…

He took a few, hesitant steps, pulling half of his body out from under the armchair. .

"Oh Harry, yes, that's very good! Come a little bit closer!"

He tried to say that he couldn't, but the sound that came out of his mouth, a sort of strangled meow, surprised even himself.

On the other side of the room, the Man In Black watched impassively, a hint of surprise in his eyes. The cat would've liked to run and hide behind his legs, but he couldn't. He didn't know what would happen if he took one more step… the woman, Mrs Weasley, he suddenly remembered, reached out her hand and he couldn't decide if he should be afraid or not.

A voice said that she was a safe refuge, but she seemed huge and unfamiliar. The Man In Black, on the other hand, seemed hostile and distant. As for the man with long grey hair who was at his side, he couldn't decide if he was imposing or reassuring.

The only thing he was sure of was that he had a splitting headache.

He heard someone murmur a spell and he felt himself pulled forward. When he opened his eyes, he was in the middle of the room.

"Animagus revelio!"

Once again, he felt his body transform against its will. In the next instant, he was standing on two legs and his vision was blurred.

"Harry! Don't be afraid, no one here wishes you harm!"

He wanted to believe Mrs Weasley's familar voice, but the images spilled over in his memory, making him want to scream. Vernon hitting him. Sirius's death, the Ministry. Bellatrix. Voldemort.

The black cloud engulfed him again. He seized his head with his hands and collapsed to the floor, unconscious. 

----------

* * *

Thank you for all the great reviews- I love it ! Please note that there are 27 chapters so far in the original sotry ( 'shadow', in French), so if you read French, you can just find the link on my fanfics ;-) And if you wish to help with the translation, I am sure that Cyllan would be glad to have some help ;-)

Thank you !


	8. Chapter 8 What Now ?

Translator : Cyllan

Beta : RaeWhit

Chap 8 : What Now ?

Later, when he thought back on that scene, he had the benefit of hindsight to curse his Potions master reflexes.

Potter had only just returned to his human form when he started to wobble, as though he had forgotten how to stand on two legs. His pupils dilated, his jaw clenched, he wore such a crazed look of pain that it made the hairs on the back of Snape's neck stand up. Then Potter clutched his head in his hands and collapsed to the ground.

In one step , Severus was at his side, just in time to keep his head from hitting the ground too hard. Meeting Dumbledore's look, he caught the glint of satisfaction in the headmaster's eyes, and it made him grind his teeth: why was it that Potter thrust him routinely into the role of saviour of the widowed and orphaned?

For now, he needed to assess the damage. He laid the boy on the ground and pressed two fingers to his neck: his heart was beating and his chest rose and fell slightly. Snape sighed with relief; if he had killed the boy, no one would ever have forgiven him. Perhaps not even himself, actually...

Dumbledore let go of Molly Weasley, who had also tried to fly to the boy's aid, and moved towards the Potions Master.

"How is he ?"

"Breathing."

Snape lifted Harry up gently. He didn't seem to weigh much more than the cat… Something had clearly gone wrong with the transformation.

He worriedly placed the unconscious boy on the settee. Perhaps it would be best to start by giving him a Calming Draught? Severus lifted a hand to open his bag and started: his palm was covered with blood! He looked back down at the teenager: contrary to what he'd thought, not all the blood on his t-shirt was old. All over his body, he could see fresh spots of blood slowly saturating the fabric.

Snape swore under his breath and, with a wave of his wand, vanished the boy's clothes. He heard Molly cry out from behind him; he himself barely managed not to recoil: the boy's chest was covered by lacerations which seemed to have been made only a moment before. He could almost see them opening up right before his eyes, while he desperately looked for their cause.

The picture of Shadow covered in blood immediately superimposed itself on that of the boy in his mind. Yes the marks matched… But they had been healed, Merlin knew, taken care of and closed a long time ago. What was happening to this child?

He quickly muttered a healing charm and was relieved to see the blood stop flowing. Drawing a breath, he turned to Dumbledore.

"Albus, I'm not sure I understand what's happening. Perhaps it would be best to call Madam Pomfrey or a healer…"

But the headmaster shook his white-haired head.

"That would not be advisable until we know more. The longer Harry's condition remains secret, the greater our opportunity to deal with it. You are managing admirably, Severus," he concluded.

Snape grunted nervously. The boy's wounds had stopped bleeding, but should they be treated like normal wounds? Such treatment would only make things worse if it were a magical wound.

"No. That would not be wise," he decided finally. "I must know more before trying anything else."

We can't leave him like that!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley.

"Any treatment would prove suicidal as long as we don't know the cause of these wounds. For now, I will give him a sleeping potion to keep him from waking up and worsening them. The only thing we can do while we wait is to clean the wounds with fresh water. Nothing more."

Dumbledore sighted, but acquiesed.

"Molly, if you could go and alert the others?"

White as a sheet, Mrs Weasley left without a word.

Alone with the Potions Master, the headmaster moved closer to Harry, who'd still not moved.

"What do you think, Severus?"

"The injuries look very much like those I previously healed on the cat. They didn't seem to be of magical origin and they healed rapidly with care… until they reopened tonight, of course."

"I agree that they don't appear to have been inflicted by curses. And the phenomenon we have observed could perhaps be explained by Harry's new powers…" mused the headmaster.

"We must make Potter talk, but I doubt that will be possible with him in this state. He seems as disturbed mentally as he is physically. I doubt he would be much use to us. Albus, you've seen his family, how far did you get in your interrogation of them?"

"I did not subject them to Legilimency if that is what you are asking," replied the headmaster calmly. "Harry's uncle was clearly speaking the truth when he stated that he didn't know what had happened to him, and his aunt and cousin did not see him that day. Nevertheless, given recent events, I agree that further clarification is necessary."

"What do you know about them, Albus? What could have provoked them to get rid of Potter ?"

"Gross misunderstanding. They are Muggles, Severus. You're in a position to understand. You yourself knew Petunia well, after all."

"'Well' is an overstatement," replied the Potions Master with a frown. "I often saw her with Lily when we were children, around the neighbourhood where we grew up. But Petunia hated that she was different from her sister, and she hated anything that reminded her of the magical world. When Lily and I became friends, she resented me terribly. She thought I was taking her away… until her departure for Hogwarts, after which she no longer wanted to have anything to do with her sister outside of their home. When I saw Lily during the holidays, I only saw Petunia from afar. She always seemed bitter and vindictive, but it was clear that she loved her sister. I don't know what caused her to push Lily away. Lily was very hurt by her rejection."

"Perhaps this would be a good thing for you to discover. That and the information we need to understand what is happening to Harry."

Severus hesitated. Going to visit the Muggles, seeing Petunia again, Lily's sister, after all these years? Meeting the family of Precious Potter? He would have gladly taken a pass. On the other hand, he had to understand at all costs the origin of the injuries and Potter's behaviour if he wanted to treat them, and he would be most able to do this if he went himself.

Dumbledore saw the Potions Master's hesitation and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"To be frank, Severus, I would prefer not to leave Harry alone. We don't know if Voldemort has noticed his return to human form, and even though Grimmauld Place is well hidden, the wards might not prove sufficient in the case of an attack."

Snape nodded reluctantly.

"Very well. I'll pay them a visit tomorrow. Potter might need tending tonight."

The door opened and the Order members filed in. It appeared that Molly Weasley had faithfully recounted the dramatic scene that had just taken place in the sitting room, since all wore sombre faces as they approached the boy.

"What can we do?" asked Kingsley.

"Sit down, so we can examine the options," suggested Dumbledore.

While everyone took their places around the table, Snape took out a green potion from his bag, that he carefully made the boy swallow. It would keep the boy asleep for a good twelve hours. Severus couldn't keep himself from examining him again.

He had seen similar marks before, but they'd had nothing to do with magic… And how to imagine Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, being thrashed the Muggle way? And how had he managed to become so thin… His new power wasn't helping him any.

He quickly applied a warming charm to the boy. It was best not to cover the wounds. What could he have missed when healing the cat? He was limping, he recalled… The left front paw.

He gently lifted the sleeping teenager's arm and palpated it for a contusion. Near the shoulder, the bone was at an odd angle…

'Broken and badly healed,' he mused. The cat had borne the pain with the help of potions and Potter had probably not realised the extent of his injuries while he was a cat. This explained the cat's lack of enthusiasm for acrobatics.

Snape suddenly felt disheartened. He had missed that as well. What else had slipped by him? Potter had been under his protection for fifteen days without him knowing it, the cat had a broken paw, and now the boy was unconscious, covered in injuries he didn't know the cause of and which he could not treat.

He was a spy, a Potions professor and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He was failing in all his missions. The Order of Merlin had never seemed so far away. Off somewhere wandering with his self-esteem…

A glint of silver suddenly caught his eye. Potter's bracelet. Why did it seem familiar to him? Shadow! Snape quickly straightened and turned towards the waiting group.

'Has Potter always had this bracelet?"

All eyes looked to the boy's wrist.

"No, I've never seen it before, Harry doesn't wear jewellery," replied Mrs Weasley. Arthur nodded in agreement.

"I don't believe I have seen it before either," added Dumbledore. "A birthday present perhaps?"

"The cat was wearing it as a collar," said Snape, in response to the headmaster's questioning look. "And he struggled every time I tried to examine it. Wherever it comes from, there's a strong likelihood that it's tied to this affair. Is there a way to obtain a complete list of the presents Potter received during his stay with the Muggles?"

"It wouldn't be a long one," said Tonks. "Hermione, Ron, Fred and George, you, Molly, I've still got Remus' present with me… I was supposed to give it directly to him on his birthday."

Mrs Weasley nodded.

"Yes, I think that's everyone. I know that the twins sent him some products from their shop, Merlin help us… Ron was vague, but he probably sent a similar type of present. I don't know what Hermione chose… As for me, I sent him food as I do every year, the poor boy starves there every summer."

Snape frowned. The stupid boy refused to eat Muggle food? That would explain his thinness. That was still preferable to a problem with transformation, he mused, slightly reassured.

"Should I go and get the children to give more detail?" asked Mrs Weasley.

"I don't think that will be necessary. Their letters were still on Harry's bed at the Dursleys. I put them in his trunk after verifying myself the recipients. I did not read them, out of discretion, but it's not too late for that."

Dumbledore got up and opened the wooden trunk in the corner of the room. He pulled out an assortment of parchments which he put on the table. He handed Ron's to Mrs Weasley, the twins' to her husband and took Hermione's for himself to read.

Kingsley, Tonks and Severus tried to read their faces while they quickly scanned the parchments. Mr and Mrs Weasley shook their heads, but Dumbledore's face lit up with joy.

All eyes turned impatiently to him.

"It seems that Miss Granger has just proven, once again, how vital she is. The bracelet you noticed, Severus, is indeed the birthday present from her."

"And by your manner, I deduce that we can expect the worst," said Snape ironically, aware of the twinkling glance that the headmaster was sending his way.

"Much to the contrary. Miss Granger's idea is excellent and particularly welcome. I think it is safe to say that she saved young Harry's life."

Curiosity was now etched on every face, including Snape's, despite his best efforts to hide it.

"This bracelet is indeed charmed. It is a Portable Aid, a gem which allows an injured wizard to find assistance. This explains how Harry was able to find his way to your door, Severus."

His explanation was met with a chorus of cries: admiration for the young girl, but also astonishment.

Snape leant back in his chair, slightly paler.

"There is however one flaw to this interesting theory," he said after a moment's reflection. "Even if my Manor is also in Surrey, it is many miles from Mr Potter's summer residence. I can scarcely imagine him completing such a journey, especially injured, whether in cat or human form. The Portable Aid does carry a body gently, in such a way as to shield the bearer, but this is not just a matter of a Portkey."

"Whatever happened that day," replied Dumbledore, "I think that powerful magic was involved. We don't yet know the particulars, but if Harry was able to acquire Animagus abilities in a short period of time, probably unknowingly, then the magic of that transformation could've unleashed the power of the bracelet. And brought him to you, Professor," concluded the headmaster in a soft voice.

Snape grimaced.

"Isn't St Mungo's closer?" hazarded Kingsley.

"It is," replied Dumbledore calmly. "The hospital is, in fact, closer to Privet Drive than Snape Manor. Not to mention the presence of several Healers near London who could have helped Harry. However, the bracelet chose to take him to Severus. The bracelet or whatever was guiding it."

The table was silent as everyone tried to digest and assimilate the information.

"Oh, come on," grumbled Moody. "Harry hates Snape, Snape almost sicks up every time he says Potter's name, why the devil would the boy have thrown himself so precisely underfoot?"

A baffled silence followed his question, interrupted by a few coughs. Severus remained impassive, and said nothing to contradict him. Moody had just spared him from a long explanation filled with euphemisms.

"Appearances sometimes hide unsuspected realities," replied Dumbledore with a half-smile.

Snape frowned. That he agreed to care for the boy did not mean that he would concern himself with his fate. The converation was taking a rather disagreeable turn.

"Be assured that I did nothing to provoke this situation in any possible way," retorted the Potions Master.

"No one doubts that…" murmured Tonks.

"Well, well," said Molly hastily. "This doesn't explain the most important thing. How was Harry able to take the form of a cat? Could he actually have become an Animagus?"

"All doubt of that was dispelled, from the moment when Harry reacted positively to the _Animagus Revelio_," replied Dumbledore. "Which indeed leaves the big question: how?

"And when. And where. And why," added Tonks.

"Indeed, Miss Tonks," agreed Dumbledore politely. "Those as well, of course. Now, here is what we know on the subject: Harry made no attempt to become an Animagus, his closest friends have assured us of this and I trust their word."

Snape nodded.

"Furthermore, it was impossible for him to practice magic while with his family, as he would have violated the Ministry Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry. In whatever manner Harry gained this skill, it was very quickly. Given his attitude, I'm inclined to think that this also occurred without his knowledge."

"I don't understand," Kingsley interrupted. "Becoming an Animagus is a learnt skill, like any other, it is never innate and cannot be passed on… by magic !"

"Indeed," admitted Dumbledore. "It is a heretofore unobserved phenomenon. Understand, until we have a definite explanation, all this is but a theory. It remains that Harry had a very short time to become an Animagus, since he was seen in his Animagus form for the first time the day after his birthday, and he doesn't seem to have possessed this talent before this summer. I am not ignorant of the fact that all this defies the laws of magic, but this is Harry Potter we are talking about, the boy who lived…the only person in the world to have survived Avada Kedavra. It does not seem prudent, in these circumstances, to reject any theory, no matter how absurd.

Silence once again.

Snape could not keep himself from silently cursing the boy. What Dumbledore had just said was perfectly correct. One could expect anything when it came to Potter… even completely irrational explanations. What could have pushed the boy to land on his front steps? What more could he've come up with to make himself interesting? Did he have to be so like his father in everything? He mulled this over.

"Another point, Albus. Potter has a substantial family history when it comes to transformation into wild animals. His father and his godfather, not to mention the rat… whatever there was, Potter was aware of this and could've very well himself built a legend out of this legacy."

Dumbledore nodded. "I am indeed aware of this, Severus. One way or another, the fact that James and Sirius, his primary father figures, had both been Animagi cannot be a coincidence. I don't know, though, how this links with his own transformation… And whether we should consider this as a gift or an attempt to harm Harry."

"So many questions, so few answers… but at least we have got Harry back," concluded Molly Weasley.

"Very true, Molly, it is a great relief. But we must still remember that no trace of Lily's sacrifice now protects Harry. What's more, we don't know how his mental and physical health have been affected, nor what really happened to him. We need to know the answers to these questions as soon as possible. A great many things rest on Harry's shoulders."

The headmaster's piercing gaze sought the Potions Master. Snape met his eyes without flinching. He could almost hear the familiar, "Can I count on you?"

Karma, he mused.

Sybill Trelawney would not have contradicted him.

* * *

Here comes the boring-but-necessary chapter with 'let's talk bout everything a bit before going on'; it will be followed by the just as necessary'Snape Meets the Dursle' one ;-)

Thank you very much for your wonderful reviews, I hope you have like this chapter ! If you understand French, remember that there are 29 chapters published under the name of "Shadow" ;-)

A very big thank to my translator Cyllan and my beta RaeWhit who have done a wonderful job ! And now... I know that they don't cut off the Niagara Falls at night. Don't ask...


	9. Chapter 9 Pride and Prejudice

Chap 9 : Pride and Prejudice

It was a beautiful morning, far too beautiful to waste in as depressing a place as Little Whinging.

Severus Snape walked purposefully through the deserted neighbourhood, casting a disheartened glance at the identical little houses, closely lined up one after the other. It was even worse than the Muggle town where he and Lily had grown up... How did one not die of boredom in such a place ?

He thought about the boy he had left in Grimmauld Place. With his unruly hair, his scar standing out in the middle of his forehead and his rebellious behaviour, he would have had to seem strangely out of place in this quiet and ordered town.He had hoped to draw the information out of the boy when he awoke, and so save himself a foray to Precious Potter's Muggle family, but his hopes had quickly been dashed.

The potion he had administered to him had worked beautifully, plunging Potter into a profound state of sleep, which was by far the way Snape preferred the boy.As all good things must come to an end, the teenager had finally woken up twelve hours later, or rather, he'd emerged from that blessed state of deep sleep.

Because it would've been an exaggeration to say that Potter had regained consciousness.He had scarcely opened his eyes, under the watchful gaze of Dumbledore and the Potions master, when he'd started to groan and press his hands to his forehead again. For once, Severus could not suspect him of faking the pain to attract attention; the boy's groans were far too pathetic to leave any doubt. Albus, being himself, could not stop from reaching a hand towards the boy to comfort him. Severus could have told him ahead of time what would happen, but he didn't have the chance: the boy proved Snape correct as he literally threw himself backwards to avoid the contact and ended with his back against the wall, fingers knotted in his hair, rocking back and forth while muttering nonsensical words.

Snape would gladly have pointed out to the headmaster that trying to cajole a traumatized and shell-shocked boy was a bit unwise, but the pain and guilt on Dumbledore's face dissuaded him.Yes, Dumbledore loved the boy. But he had no idea of how to handle an injured animal. Severus approached the boy without making any sudden movements. He had to at least try...

"Potter."

The boy had buried his head between his knees, rocking back and forth even faster.

"Potter, listen to me. Concentrate on my voice. You're at Grimmauld Place, you're safe. Albus Dumbledore is with me."

But the boy was too far gone. On hearing his name, he started to tremble.

"I'm sorry... sorry...sorry... I didn't want... I'm sorry..."

After an especially ridiculous Potter-cat, a pleading Potter brimming over with guilt. What was the world coming to, and where was that Gryffindor dignity now ?

Snape mused that he had just gained sufficient material for cutting remarks for years to come, but the thought gave him no pleasure. Why was the boy 'sorry' ? Was he overcome with guilt, or did he believe he was pleading with his executioner ? For a brief instant, Snape would've pitied him. But neither was that appropriate. He sighed. Caught between two wrongs, it was best to choose the lesser of them.

"Could you leave us alone for a moment, Albus ?"

Dumbledore appeared surprised, but asked no questions and left, leaving the Potions master and the boy in private. As soon as he heard the door close softly, Snape knelt down a few feet from the boy.

"Shadow, calm yourself. Everything will be all right, there's nothing to fear," he said in the voice he used to speak to the cat.

The boy stiffened and stopped muttering his apologies.

"That's right, cat. Everything is fine. I'm here."

Snape thought to himself that if anyone ever found out about this scenario, he would be forced to verify whether inflicting an Avada Kedavra on himself were a possibility. But he was rewarded as he saw the boy lift his head, his pupils dilated.

"Shadow," the Potions master said softly, "become Shadow again... for now."

He saw a flicker of relief cross the boy's face before he transformed into the black cat once again.

Snape could not hold in a soft sigh. The solution was not ideal, but Potter's emotions were less intense in cat form, in which he also seemed better able put up with his injuries. On seeing the cat's blank gaze, he thought for a moment he'd made a terrible mistake. Had he only made him even more confused ?

Then the cat's eyes settled on him. Not entirely Shadow, not entirely Potter, but a mix of the two, which was the best that he could've hoped for.

"Everything's fine. I know that you don't understand everything and, believe me, you're not the only one. But we're going to make sure we change that as quickly as possible. We're going to need your help, though... You're going to have to try to remember what happened to you, from the beginning. For now, you need to rest and try to stay calm. Dumbledore and the rest of the Order will keep watch over you here, at Grimmauld Place."

He wasn't sure that the cat had understood everything, but the sound of his voice seemed to have calmed him. If Potter still retained a small sense of himself, perhaps he could begin to calm down and make himself useful. The cat was trembling, but did not try to flee. In fact, it was watching Snape with a bit of hope, and something akin to trust...

Proof, thought Snape, that Potter was not in complete control of his faculties. He took a quick look at the cat's injuries. Yes, he recognized that they were indeed the same ones he had already healed... Were they going to reopen when Potter had to transform back ? Something to worry about. All of this he truly was not happy about.

If he discovered who had hurt his cat...

He got hold of himself quickly. Very well. Very well, he was tired and decidedly under stress. _Potter_ was going to stay safely in the room in cat form, the devil take him, and Snape was going to find a way to solve this problem and then that could be the end of it ! With Merlin's help, the boy would have no memory of his stay at the manor, even if it meant Obliviating him at the first opportunity.

Potter, Shadow, goddamit, with his luck, the animal undoubtedly had fleas.

Snape left the room quickly and rejoined Dumbledore in the kitchen.

"Very well. Potter has returned to his cat form. It was preferable, both for his mental and his physical health. We'll see about turning him back when we know more about what's going on and how we can care for him. For now, he's in his bedroom and doesn't seem too agitated. Try not to disturb him. If anything happens, I'll be in Surrey, Legilimising the Muggles who serve as family for this insufferable source of problems you call Potter."

"You seem nervous, Severus. Is everything all right ?"

Snape groaned.

"Clearly. I haven't slept more than an hour in two days. I am responsible for looking after a boy who is supposed to save the world, but who isn't even capable of remembering his own name, let alone telling us how he came to be injured, the Dark Lord is likely to call me at any moment and his potions aren't ready, and to top it all off, I'm preparing to spend the morning with the most disagreeable Muggle family I have ever known."

"And you don't know the half of it," replied Dumbledore, unable to hide a smile. "Severus, I will never know how to tell you how grateful I am for everything you do...for Harry and for us all," he said emphatically.

Snape relaxed slightly.

"You have no need , Albus. I am at the top of the list of those interested in Potter's survival and success. What worries me most at the moment is the way the boy pressed his hands to his forehead. I suspect the Dark Lord has become aware of his return to consciousness, however weak and troubled, and is trying to connect their minds..."

"In which case, you did well to make him change back into his Animagus form. Your decision was the most reasonable, all things considered, even if it hurts me to see Harry like that."

Snape nodded. He understood the headmaster's concern, his worry about disturbing Harry's peception of his identity even more... but for his part, he had to admit that he was much more comfortable with the feline version of the boy. A bit too much, perhaps.

He checked that his wand was well secured in his belt and put on his cloak.

"Would you like a Disillusionment Charm, Severus? Muggles, especially in Little Whinging, are hardly used to seeing this sort of attire..."

"Unnecessary. No one will die from it, and my appearance could provoke some interesting reactions if other wizards have been hanging around the area recently. Death Eaters always remain invisible..."

"You intend to search the area ?" Dumbledore asked, surprised.

Snape smiled bitterly.

"I don't want to leave anything to chance. Time is too precious... and when I am next called to Malfoy Manor, I don't know how long before I'll be able to return. We need answers quickly."

Dumbledore raised a hand to squeeze the Potions master's shoulder, but restrained the movement when he saw him stiffen.

Dumbledore sighed. If he had for an instant doubted the value of Snape's decision to push Harry to resume his animal form, all doubt would have disappeared now.

Each in his own way, the professor and the student, had a sense of honour and a certitude that they could count only on themselves, which brought them closer to each other than either could have imagined. It was this bond that had compelled Snape to make the right decision regarding Harry, and Dumbledore would've been happy for this reason had he not been so worried about them both.

Seeing his dismay, Snape graced him with a look meant to be reassuring, matched with the shadow of a smile.

"And to answer your question, yes, you can count on me, Albus."

"I've never doubted it, my boy," replied the headmaster softly.

"If Potter ever... if there were an emergency of any sort, let me know."

Dumbledore nodded and watched as the Potions master headed for the fireplace.

He had a strange premonition that any problems to occur would not be coming from Grimmauld Place that morning.

"Snape Manor !"

When Snape appeared in his laboratory, something seemed wrong to him. It felt as if years had passed by since he had left the last time, with Shadow in his arms.

Shadow. That was what was different. He looked at the cat's jumper on his armchair... He sighed, incapbable of knowing whether he was annoyed, frustrated or worried. Whichever it was, it was Potter's fault once again. He took a last look at the jumper. The cat had only been there for two weeks, after all; it wouldn't take much to get used to his absence.

The cat...Potter ! He cursed silently. Lack of sleep was really not doing him any good. He grabbed a vial and quickly swallowed the contents ; he was going to need all his energy and clarity to visit the Dursleys.

The idea made him feel increasingly uneasy; this whole story didn't add up... But he had no time to waste in speculation. Putting a few potions in the inside pocket of his robe, he Disapparated with a great 'crack'.

As he'd expected, his presence in the streets of the housing estate prompted no reaction from its inhabitants, apart from a few disapproving looks. The chances were slim, but he especially needed to mull things over before confronting the Muggles and one excuse was as good as another.

Number four, Privet Drive. From the other side of the road, Snape contemplated the house. So it was here, then, where the famous Potter had grown up... truly far from Godric's Hollow.

He crossed the road and the perfectly kept garden in order to knock on the door. The man who opened it, by contrast, certainly did not look like the average Muggle. As wide as he was tall, he took up the full frame of the doorway and turned crimson red as he recognized his visitor. Sticking out his chest, he tried a bit more to forbid access to the house.

"The boy's not come back !" he barked finally, when he'd calmed himself enough to speak. "We've had no news from him and that's fine with us ! If he were to have the nerve to set foot here again, I'll send him to hell myself. Now, leave my family the bloody hell alone, before I call the police. Do freaks like you have no respect for families in mourning ?" he bellowed at the top of his voice.

_That was a tirade as explicit as it was rich in information_, pondered Snape.

So then, someone had died... and Potter was probably mixed up in it. Why the devil had Dumbledore not seen fit to inform him of this ? How could he have neglected such a vital piece of information before sending him here ? Had he feared that Snape would refuse to help Potter if he found out what he had done ?

The pieces of the puzzle were rapidly falling into place. The infernal child had evidently found a way to get on the wrong side of his only family, and probably by a horrible crime that even the headmaster, with all the indulgence he accorded the odious boy, couldn't excuse.

He felt a nameless resentment rise up in him. Dumbledore and Potter. A right pair of deceivers….

"Unless you intend to keep on shouting from your doorstep and alert the whole neighbourhood, I'm afraid you'll want me to come in ; I have certain details to go through with you and I have no intention of leaving until I have all the answers," he said, his face unfathomable.

Vernon Dursley stared at him for a few seconds before finally letting him in with a 'humpf' which spoke volumes about his desire to offer hospitality to the man in black. He stepped to the side and slammed the door behind the Potions master. Crossing his arms over his large chest, he looked him up and down obstinately. If he had not been so annoyed, Snape would have almost found the man's childish attitude amusing.

"Are your wife and son here ?" he asked.

"No, thank god, they've gone out to buy a new computer for Dudley, give him something else to think about. Since his aunt's death, he's been..." Vernon gestured exasperatedly. He wasn't going to discuss his life with a _freak_, was he ?

Snaped nodded. It was best that he be alone with Vernon at first; if Petunia recognised him, things were going to become even more complicated.

"My condolences," he said perfunctorily. "Your sister, I assume ?"

"You assume correctly," grumbled Vernon, "and whatever you've got in mind, don't think for a second that I'm going to take that little freak you managed to force on Petunia fifteen years ago back under my roof. It's over with, you hear ? I don't care if all the legions of hell are after him, it's all he deserves ! As far as I'm concerned, I wish them luck. If this Lord-I-Don't-Know-Who wants to catch the boy and wring his neck, he can have him, believe you me !"

Snape stiffened. However deep the man's pain, it did not lesssen the shock of his words. Did he truly understand the danger his nephew was in ? The contempt and hardness in the Muggle's face when he spoke about Potter were positively deranged.

"May I ask about the circumstances of her death ?" Snape asked as courteously as he could.

"Car accident. Of course, what else !" thundered Vernon, torn between rage and grief.

Snape did not know the answer but was longing to know. What did this have to do with Potter ? The boy was not supposed to leave the house during the summer.

"And Harry's role in the accident ?"

"His role ?" grumbled Vernon. Then he said, louder, "You dare to ask me what he did ?" His face became even redder while he waved his hands menacingly in the air.

"It's all his fault ! All of it ! From the start ! The contracts, the factory, my poor disturbed Dudley, Marge's accident. He's bad, bad like a plague, he brings misfortune on everyone around him !"

Snape tried to hide his incredulity.

"You will have to excuse me, but I thought Harry wasn't allowed to leave the confines of the house this year. In such circumstances, how was he able to cause this accident ? Did it take place in the alley ?"

"In the alley ! What a joke, in the alley ! On a motorway, Marge lost control of her car on a motorway in Scotland ! In Scotland, you see, what a strange coincidence! That's where that school for delinquants that takes Potter off our hands for most of the year is, isn't it ?"

_This man is completely mad_, thought Snape. Or perhaps just blinded by pain, but in any case completely irrational. He suddenly realized that he'd just called the boy Harry, whereas his uncle had referred to him as being 'Potter'.

No, something was definitely wrong with this day. He would have liked to have been able to stop time for a moment and summarise all the contradictory information he had gathered in the last few hours... But he didn't have the chance, as Vernon had gone off again and there was no stopping him.

"Lost control of her vehicle, Marge... as if that could happen... If you had known her, you would have known right away that couldn't happen ! Certainly not ! That dirty little brat bewitched and killed her. As surely as if he'd shot her, point-blank !"

"Why would he have done such a thing ?" asked Snape, half-intrigued, half-annoyed.

"Ah ! Revenge, of course ! A nasty piece of work, that boy... nasty, just like his parents. Marge knew it and she always made a point of putting him back in his place. Like we did, not that it was enough, when you look at what happened... He had already blown her up like a balloon, just because she tried to make him admit the truth about his parents ! And now this, a car accident...to make us realise just how fiendish he is, of course. A car accident !"

"I'm afraid I still don't see the relationship," Snape persisted, battling against the beginnings of a migrane.

"The car accident. The Potters. That's what we told the boy, so we didn't have to talk about..." Vernon shot a look at Snape and the wand he was playing with reflexively and decided not to voice his opinion about wizards.

"You told Harry that his parents were killed in a car crash ?" asked the Potions master, trying to put together the cock and bull bits of information that the Muggle was throwing at him.

"On the dole, drunk as skunks, the accident... the two losers killed and their freak of nature son given to us to look after ! This burden for years and all that for what ? Dudley's traumatised, Marge is dead, all our family soon to be on the streets... I should have abandoned him somewhere that first evening, as I said to Petunia, but we had to 'protect' the demon, so we kept him. And what good did it do ? Hmm, what good?"

_Certainly not for him,_ thought Snape. It was no longer just a migraine, but nausea that was overcoming him now. Where had he gone wrong ? Or more precisely, where had Potter gone wrong ?

He took a deep breath and tried to suppress the furious desire to cast a Legilimens at the man to extract from him the information he wanted. Patience, he had something to do first…

"I would like to see the boy's room," he demanded abruptly.

The man grumbled.

"You're not coming any further into my house ! You and your sort have already done enough harm here. I've told you the boy's not here, now leave !"

"I'm afraid that's not an option," replied Snape dryly. "The room. Now." He rolled his wand between his fingers, whilst fixing Vernon with a penetrating gaze.

The Muggle grumbled out a few words that were supposed to be insulting, but moved reluctantly towards the stairs.

The house was as meticulously well-kept and traditional on the inside as it was on the outside. With the exception, however, of the door the man stopped in front of : it was covered with solid locks and seemed poorly fixed to its hinges, as if it had been regularly slammed or broken down.

Snape experienced an instant of doubt : was this really Potter's room ? Did they think he was a wild animal ? The lack of understanding Dumbledore had spoken of seemed to have reached rock bottom. Vernon opened the door and gestured with his chin that he could enter.

"After you," the wizard signaled him.

The man grumbled, then after a second's hesitation, went through the door, Snape on his heels. The first thing the Potions master noticed were the bars on the window. Dumbledore had alluded to them, but strangely the image hadn't really registered. At this hour of the day, the sun came through the window, projecting their shadow across the room, making it difficult to see anything else.

The bare walls, the battered mattress, the empty wardrobe, it all conspired to make the room seem like a cell. And it had only been two weeks since the boy left… So this was where the famous Harry Potter grew up. A new story, a new puzzle was slowly taking shape in the professor's mind.

He was going to get to the bottom of this.

"What happened the last time Harry was here ?"

Vernon ground out a few words, then seeing the Potions master's expression, he cleared his throat.

"I've already told all this to that old fool. I told the boy to pack his bags and leave, that he wasn't welcome here anymore."

"How exactly did you phrase it ?"

Vernon figeted, visibly ill at ease. Now was a good time.

"_Legilimens !_"

An instant later, Snape found himself once again in a slightly different version of the room. A few belongings were lying on the floor, the wardrobe was shut, and a fatigued-looking teenager was watching a redder-than-ever Vernon Dursley pace towards him.

The boy was thin, he saw, thinner even than the version resting at Grimmauld Place. There were large dark circles under his eyes and Snape thought he could make out the shadow of a bruise on his cheek.

"_She's dead,"_

The boy seemed as surprised as Snape had been, but he apologised without seeking clarification.

"_Sorry !" Vernon finally shouted, "you'd better be ! It's your fault ! Your fault !"»_

Yes, it looked as though even Harry didn't see how he could be implicated. Snape couldn't help but feel relief.

"_You, your abnormality… your fault… always! You bring bad luck ! You attract death !"_

While Vernon was endeavoring to inform the boy just how he was responsible for all the misfortune in the world, Snape was able to watch as Harry's expression became more and more empty and sorrowful. Guilt was now written all over his face.

Snape groaned : the boy made it a point of honour never to believe a word adults said to him, but he accepted without objection the irrational accusations made by his uncle. Where was the logic in that ?

His guilty appearance was not lost on his uncle either. Snape watched the man slowly unbuckle his belt with a malevolent smile on his face before winding it around his hand, letting the buckle swing free. Potter did not seem aware of what was coming, but Snape couldn't help but shudder : the boy's wounds ! No, it wasn't possible, he hadn't dared !

Vernon confirmed his fears by swinging the strap as hard as he could against the boy's chest. The boy scarcely reacted, lost in a haze of guilt. A second blow seemed to pull him out of his stupor, and Snape thought for an instant that he was finally going to fight back, but he could only stand helpless in face of the boy's capitulation.

Without trying to further protect himself, he accepted the punishment as if he'd deserved it.

The Potions professor could not believe his eyes. Potter… Potter, who had faced Voldemort as regular as clockwork, who had defied a dragon and the Dementors and who endured no authority if he'd decided not to. Without a word, Potter accepted being accused of murder and being beaten mercilessly, in the most humiliating manner, for a crime about which he hadn't the slightest idea!

The belt struck again and again, the iron buckle tearing his skin and the boy still did nothing to defend himself. Out of strength, he ended by collapsing semi-conscious to the floor. This did not seem to calm Vernon, whose fury doubled, a perverse gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

Finally tired of having to bend over to hit the boy, and worn out himself, he kicked viciously several times to finish the boy off.

'_And there's the cause of the broken arm,'_ mused Snape, watching a particularly violent kick land on the boy's shoulder. Then on his sides…

'_Yet another thing I didn't notice,'_ he thought to himself bitterly as he heard a dull crack.

"_You don't live here anymore."_

With a last glance filled with contempt and hate, the man spat on the boy's unmoving body and left without looking back.

No, Potter didn't live there anymore; that would have been certain even if the brute had not wished it. He, Severus, would've never permitted it… As for Dumbledore, he didn't even dare imagine his reaction when he learned the details of his protégé's eviction.

The vision became blurry. Snape now felt rather ill, but he had no intention of staying there. Why hadn't the boy defended himself against a mere Muggle ? He'd seemed so fearful and resigned... Refusing to break the Legilimency link, he searched Vernon's memory for other recollections of the boy.

And he found them…

Potter that summer, crying out in his sleep and being hit as his consolatioon.

Potter a bit younger, cooking and cleaning the house into the middle of the night.

Potter starving, trying to filch food and ending up locked in his room.

Harry, definitely smaller, crying because his cousin, ressembling a nasty baby elephant, had beaten him and Harry'd received a slap for having provoked him.

_Freak. Good for nothing. Son of an alcoholic. Delinquent. A mistake of nature. Burden._

And to finish, the image of a small boy who couldn't have been five years old, cowering, terrified, deep in a cupboard, face dripping with tears, closing his eyes as an enormous hand flew towards his face.

That was enough. Oh yes, that was definitely enough. Snape had just skimmed fifteen years of Potter's life and he hadn't the least desire to dig any deeper.

How could he, this Muggle, this poor excuse for a human being ! He who should have been honoured beyond his wildest dreams to have the privilege of raising the boy who lived. Survived, that was the well-chosen word, and more than once, by all accounts.

Any wizarding family would have raised the boy like a son, and this Muggle who was supposed to be his uncle… Only, did he know what he was risking if the wizarding world ever one day came to find out ?

How could the boy be so arrogant at Hogwarts and yet so submissive in front of his family ? For certain, Snape had been able to see a few outright attempts at rebellion in the adolescent Harry in Vernon's memories, but nothing that held a candle to the resignation and anguished submissiveness that he'd shown all these years.

At Hogwarts, however… In his memory Snape ran through different scenes of Potter in the castle. Potter, yes, but which one ? he mused for a moment. James and Harry, who resembled each other so much that that they blurred into one another… And yet.

What would the arrogant James Potter have said if he'd been able to see his his terrorized son in the back of a cupboard, or being beaten by a belt by the one who was supposed to raise him as his own child ? He would turn over in his grave… but Snape was incapable of feeling glad about it. His old enemy was no longer in a position to avenge his son, but, he, Snape, was. And he had never had such a good opportunity to repay his debt to James.

Opposite him, Vernon Dursley was breathing heavily, his breath short and his eyes unfocused.

Aware that the wizard was scrutinizing him, he jumped and started to mumble.

"It isn't… I didn't… it's not like that."

"Not like that ?" replied Snape softly, taking a step towards him.

"No ! It's not what you think !" shouted Vernon as panic overtook him. "Listen, that boy Potter, he's not normal !"

"No, indeed. He's a wizard, a hero in our world, Merlin forgive me and, in any event, the only person to have survived the Dark Lord on several occasions. His destiny is to save our world… A child. An adolescent with responsibilities too great for him and with many more problems than most people realise…"

"He's a freak !" interrupted Vernon. "He's brought nothing but misfortune since he day he arrived ! He's bad, it's in his blood, he…"

"I've heard enough," said Snape dryly. "I am sufficiently well-placed to know that Harry is not a model teenager. But still, even if he had been a reincarnation of the Dark Lord himself, I would still be unable to find any excuse for your abominable treatment of a child. And I speak only for myself… I would not like to be in your place, Vernon, when Dumbledore and the rest of Mr Potter's fan club learn how you have systematically and methodically ruined his life. Do you have even the faintest idea what that child represents?" he hissed.

"Nevertheless, Mr Dursley, we have something in common," he continued in a calmer voice.

He thought he saw a glimmer of hope in the man's eyes, but this was quickly replaced by panic when he realised that his feet were not touching the floor.

"We both experience certain difficulties in suppressing our murderous impulses."

Vernon's eyes literally bulged with terror when he found himself thrown against a wall. Then against another. And then another. Or was this the ceiling ?

When he opened his eyes, he was stretched out on the floor, panting. He threw a wild look at the Potions master, who looked him up and down, a disgusted look on his face.

"I would stay longer to discuss the benefits of education with you, Dursley, but I believe that your belt and yourself have much to talk about," said Snape before murmuring a spell in the man's direction.

Vernon let out a little croak as he felt the heavy belt slip from his waist and float up into the air.

"I don't want to interrupt your tete-a-tete. On the other hand, I still have to meet your charming little family ; I'm going to wait for them in the sitting room, if you will excuse me," sniggered Snape as he left the room with a brief nod of his head.

He had scarcely shut the door when he heard the familiar sound of a leather belt violently striking skin. The same sound he had heard repeated endlessly, in Vernon's memories a few minutes earlier. He looked at the door with a certain degree of satisfaction, fastened the locks one by one, taking care that each click resonated mercilessly.

A good deed accomplished.

"Don't ever again presume to lay a hand on my cat," he murmured.

Then, to the sound of Dursley's screams, he calmly went down the stairs, and into the sitting room to await the rest of the family.

Snape made a circular scan of the overly clean room. Everything here looked artificial, right down to the photos covering the walls and the pedestal tables. A fat blond boy surrounded by his smiling parents ; a perfect little family with their fixed smiles. Nothing to hint that Harry belonged here, and without a doubt, that had effectively been the case.

Snape thought briefly back to the incessant allusions to the spoilt-boy Harry that he'd generously made all these years. If it hadn't been so pathetic, he would have almost laughed.

Snape, who'd thought he'd mastered the subtle art of a well-placed insult, was going to have to reevaluate his standards anew. In more ways than one.

The front door opened and voices could be heard in the hall.

"Vernon ! We're home ! Can you come and give us a hand ?"

Snape stood, a small smile on his lips, and moved nonchalantly towards the new arrivals.

In the foyer, Petunia and her son were struggling with some large boxes. She hadn't much changed, thought Snape. Even thinner, her face fixed in an unpleasant expression, her movements stiff… how could this woman be related to Lily ? Petunia caught sight of him suddenly and jumped, dropping a package.

"Who are you ? What are you doing in my house ? Where is Vernon ?"

Snape continued to stare at her without saying a word. Petunia frowned, a little glimmer of understanding deep in her eyes.

"Dudley, go to your room, dear."

"But, my compu…" The enormous teenager, almost hidden beneath rolls of fat, noticed the intruder and froze as he saw his clothes and the wand he held in his hand. He squealed like a pig and ran up the stairs, leaving his mother to face the wizard alone.

What a fine example of filial devotion, thought Snape.

Petunia continued to stare at him, an expression of disgust and hatred on her face.

"I know you. You're that horrible boy who turned Lily into a freak."

"Is it an obsession in this family to impute imaginary crimes to others?" Snape asked dryly.

Petunia clicked her tongue.

"Where is Vernon ?"

"He is not available at the moment. You will find him in your nephew's bedroom, but not before we have had a little chat."

Petunia let out a horsey little laugh.

"About what? That little freak my sister left us, I presume ? He's not here. And he's not coming back again. Vernon made sure of that."

Snape felt his anger growing. Petunia… Lily's sister, this gangly girl always hanging onto her little sister's arm, whether to protect her or hold her back, no one knew.

Given, Vernon was a bully...but the same blood as Petunia's ran in Harry's veins.

One more time, Snape returned to the same question; how could she ?

"Yes, I am aware of that," he said finally. "Your husband and I had a little chat... a heart to heart . »

The woman frowned suspiciously.

"Mr Dursley gave me, quite involuntarily I must admit, the opportunity to see some particularly significant scenes in Harry's life with you."

Snape was silent, awaiting a reaction. Petunia froze.

"We took him in under our roof. We fed him, gave him clothes, sent him to school. He had everything he needed," she hissed.

"That's not what I saw," replied Snape softly; "Why, Petunia ?"

The woman's face twisted with rage and frustration.

"I never asked for this burden ! If he was that precious to you, all the fools of your sort, why didn't you keep him ? It wasn't enough to have such abominations in the house with Lily and everyone thinking she was so great. If our parents hadn't worshipped her, her and her abnormality, perhaps she would have stayed normal ! Like me... but they didn't care about that, did they ? And then the boy... as if we needed a freak in our family !"

"And you saw to it that he was never pampered, as Lily had been..."

"Of course," replied Petunia shortly, "I wasn't going to allow the slightest chance that he'd turn out like my sister."

"So you would claim to have mistreated the boy to save his life ?" asked Snape, with a smidgeon of hope.

But Petunia one again looked disgusted.

"Save him ? That's what we did by taking him in, the little snake, isn't it ? If he's managed to get himself killed, for all that I care, good riddance. Perhaps, we'll finally be able to live in peace."

Snape felt overcome with bitterness. Regretfully, he asked the question that burned his lips.

"This is Lily's son, Petunia. How could you not love him ?"

He tried to hope that the woman would insult him, protest, shout that he had no right to say it and that, of course, she loved him, in spite of everything...

But Petunia's expression destroyed his every hope.

"Why should I have ? Dumbledore was able to make me take him and keep him under my roof, but he couldn't force me to love him, could he? Especially when I had my wonderful little Dudley, so beautiful, so kind, so _normal_. As for Lily... the boy is nothing like my sister. He's the spitting image of his good for nothing father. I want nothing to do with that freak."

Snape was speechless.

That he would find this a pertinent argument was one thing, but Petunia? Lily's sister, who had raised Harry ? What was wrong with this woman ?

She had loved her sister, he was sure... After her death, she should have felt honoured and deeply moved to find herself entrusted with her son, and should have cherished him in memory of Lily.

As he would have done.

Oh, Lily, he thought... how many times will you have been betrayed ?

He looked at the narrow-faced woman with a mixture of disgust and sadness. She was so different from her sister. Harry, even though for all intents and purposes he had never known his mother, and looked so dangerously like his father, was actually more like Lily than Petunia had ever been.

Seeing the way the Potions master was looking at her, Petunia scowled.

"You, why did you not take him, if you care so much about him ? After all, my sister was forever talking about you, every time she came home. He could just as easily have been your son."

"He could have been, yes, but for a few years," Snape replied impassively.

'_He should have been,'_ he thought.

"So keep him if you find him. Don't count on me to take care of him. I've done enough for the little ingrate, I never want to see him here again. Not after what's happened."

"You're in a postion to know that Harry had nothing to do with that accident," said Snape.

"Perhaps. But Vernon doesn't know that...Nor does Dudley."

Her tone of voice clearly indicated that the conversation was finished.

Severus rather agreed. He felt more exhausted and stiff than after a round of Cruciatus at the hands of Voldemort. Everything about this house, about this family was unhealthy.

And Harry...Merlin. Harry should never ever return here. He would see to it. For who had really looked after the boy ?

Certainly not his so-called family, who wanted nothing more than for him to disappear. Not Dumbledore either, who had let him grow up and return here... Did he even know the half of it ? Snape hoped with all his heart that such was not the case. Otherwise... what was he to think ?

In every case, one fact remained, Potter could have had as many admirers and purported bodyguards that he wanted, but no one had really taken care of the boy.

And he firmly intended to change that.

He would not allow Lily's death to have been for nothing. For so much suffering. He would not allow anyone to hurt his cat.

In any case, whether the boy wanted it or not, he intended to keep a close eye on Harry, and not just during Quidditch matches.

When he finally stepped into the street, the sun was still shining. Snape found this almost strange. Disturbing.

The world had just tilted slightly, say five degrees to the right. His world, which revolved around Potter since he'd arrived at Hogwarts five years earlier. Potter, who was not Potter, in the end. But Harry, rather. Or if necessary, Shadow.

With one last glance at number four, Privet Drive, Snape concealed himself in the shadow of a wall to Disapparate.

At the moment he disappeared, a face suddenly appeared before his eyes, making him jump. For a second, he could see Lily's face smiling at him, her lips forming the words 'thank you'.

And behind her, the familiar and yet different face of James Potter, who graced him with a look full of gratitude.

**°0O0°To be Continued°0O0°**

**A very big thank to my translator, Claire, and my Beta, RaeWhit, I love you girls ! I really wouldn't have make it without you ( obviously, yeah... )**

**And a big thank too to all the people who sent lovely reviews, I am just like ****squeee**** every time I receive one ;-) I'm sorry it has been so long, actually the chapter 10 was translated before the 9 due to some problems, nevermind, but the good news is : chapter 10 is already translated, so it shouldn't be so long this time ;-)**

**I hope you enjoyed this one ! And if you can read French; well, there are 32 chapters now I think ( Shadow in Original Version ), and if you are willing to translate some too, I'm sure Claire won't mind some help with the chapters ;-)**


	10. Chapter 10 Take it Easy

Chap 10 : Take it easy

When Snape Apparated into his lab, it felt once more as though years had passed since he was last there. And still, yet again_,_ it had been no more than a few hours...

He saw the jumper and tried to envision Shadow sleeping on it, through the new perspective he had gained of Potter.

A timid cat, whodidn't like sudden movements, who didn't draw attention to himself and who never meowed... who had taken up with the first person to show him a hint of kindness, offering his loyalty in exchange.

A cat who did not complain about his injuries and who devoured his food as though he had never had any before.

Potter. His cat. He couldn't help but feel suddenly possessive towards the animal... and the teenager. He was going to have to come quicky to his senses, however ; this was Potter, Harry Potter, there wasn't a living soul who wanted to see him hanging around the boy any more than was necessary. With the exception of Dumbledore, perhaps, but the old fool had an annoying habit of wanting to go against nature and create improbable association_s_.

And an even more irritating exception was that of Voldemort, who, if he started to become suspicious of Snape's intentions regarding Potter, then the Potions master would be the first to suffer. The Dark Lord would use him to get hold of the boy and his position would be compromised. He was going to have to use all his Occlumency skills.

He was a spy and had been for years. If he had managed to fool the Dark Lord concerning his loyalty up until now, he could still do it. He knew to remain discreet and aloof, in all circumstances.

But he was still going to have a serious discussion with Dumbledore about his methods of keeping the boy safe.

He cast a final look about the room before throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace.

Yes, the world had tilted on its axis... and he was going to have to reorient himself.Quickly.

When he arrived at Grimmauld Place, the place was empty. It was now not much past noon, but apparently the Order members hadn't eaten there today. Dumbledore had no doubt stayed alone with Potter...

He was going to go up and join them, but needed a moment to himself. A moment to put his thoughts in order and think about what he was going to say to the headmaster... and how he was going to say it.

Up above, a door closed softly and he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. A moment later Dumbledore entered the Blacks' sitting room.

He looked inquisitive, a small smile on his lips as he joined the Potions master next to the fireplace. Lost in thought, Snape did not immediately look up.

"Severus ?"

Snape finally looked up at the headmaster, whose smile disappeared instantly. Quite suddenly he seemed to age several years and his shoulders fell as he stared at the professor.

"Perhaps we should sit down ?" he suggested.

Snape nodded and sat down on one of the comfortable armchairs, his legs crossed, and took a deep breath while Dumbledore took a seat opposite.

"Where are things, Severus ?" he asked in a low voice.

Snape could not restrain a grimace of disgust.

"How often did you check on the living conditions of your little protégé, Albus ?"

"This summer, or before he started at Hogwarts ?" asked the headmaster.

A sneer answered him.

Dumbledore sighed.

"Judging by your reaction, not often enough. Harry wrote regularly this summer and gave no impression of having been unwelcome," he said.

"Unwelcome ?" queried the Potions master incredulously. "Unwelcome, Albus? Do you have any idea how the boy is treated at home ? Or what his so-called family thinks of him, and makes him think of himself ?"

"Severus, they are his family ! Their way of life is undoubtedly very different from ours and there is no doubt that Harry's presence there is a disruption, but he is still their nephew and they have protected him until now!" protested Dumbledore.

Snape stiffened, his hands clenched on the arms of the chair.

"Protected him ? By throwing him out at the first opportunity?"

The grey-haired wizard opened his mouth to reply, but didn't get the chance.

"I don't want to know anything about their reasons ! The loss of a close relative is always painful, but to blame this death on a child already in mourning... Oh yes, they knew, Albus ! Harry wakes up every night crying from nightmares of Black's death!" snarled Snape, leaping to his feet.

The headmaster leant back a bit more in his armchair, eyes half-closed, but the Potions master did not give him time to form an answer..

"As to his injuries, I have discovered their origin and I can treat them," he continued more calmly. "And you were right, they are not magical injuries."

Dumbledore cast him an almost imploring look, but Snape continued, teeth clenched.

"They were inflicted, one by one, with a belt, wielded by his uncle."

The headmaster closed his eyes completely this time, resting his forehead on a hand. But Snape had no intention of finishing there. Dumbledore himself had not wanted to use Legilimancy on the fat bully who'd masqueraded as the boy's uncle, but he would not necessarily escape a detailed account of his misdeeds.

"It would seem that Vernon Dursley was truly convinced of your little protege's guilt, Albus. Petunia said nothing to contradict him, but we'll come back to that charming woman later. Be that as it may, Vernon went straightaway to tell his nephew what he thought of him and his habit of bringing misfortune upon people. Of causing their deaths. And in order to ensure his point of view was fully understood, he beat the lesson into the boy's head with his belt before breaking several bones by kicking him. So, what do you think now of their manner of protecting him, Albus ? And of loving him?"

Snape stopped, having run out of breath, and stared at the old man opposite him. Now, he had his head in his hands and looked nothing like the powerful wizard whom even Voldemort feared, nothing like the respected headmaster of the famous school of witchcraft and wizardry. Snape saw nothing but an old man, broken by his mistakes, who could have very well done with a stiff drink.

Muttering, Snape opened the drinks cabinet, got out a bottle of whisky and filled a glass. He hadn't meant to shout at the headmaster in such an accusatory tone. The naive and casual manner with which he'd considered Harry's safety at the Muggles had made Snape see red. How could Dumbledore have been so negligent towards a child he seemed to hold so dear ? On whom rested the future of the wizarding world ?

He held the glass out to the headmaster, who took it with a slightly trembling hand.

Reluctantly, Snape sat down again in his chair, giving both himself and the old man time to calm down.

"Never before this," Dumbledore said finally in a weak voice, "I 've had no reason to suspect that Vernon Dursley could be violent towards Harry. Have you delved into his memories, Severus ? With respect to Harry ?"

Snape nodded, but did not immediately reply. Should he tell him all of it? The man already seemed weighed down by what he had learned so far. Snape sighed… He scarcely had a choice; Harry's safety depended on it.

"Yes, I searched his memories for several representative scenes showing his relationship with the boy. From the day he first arrived, up until this summer…"

He paused once again, gathering his thoughts. The famous Harry Potter, hated and neglected his whole childhood…. The Daily Prophet would have a field day. In any event, Potter had been careful not to draw attention to himself and, to some extent, Snape understood perfectly. It was a certain sense of propriety that Snape would not himself expose.

He had to give Dumbledore his report, but nothing required him to go into great detail. If the man absolutely had to have his fill of sordid anecdotes, he could go to the Dursleys himself for them ; Snape was sure that he'd seen but the tip of the iceberg.

Meeting the headmaster's eye once again, Snape saw there his expectation and apprehension. No, it definitely would accomplish noththing to give more detail than strictly necessary.

"Apparently, Vernon Dursley ratcheted the violence up a notch following Harry's return this year. I don't think he'd beaten him so severely before this point, though it appears he never had any hesitation over applying a well-placed slap. On the other hand, depriving the boy of food and overburdening him with chores… That seems to be the normal routine of this household. But it's not only that, Albus…they truly hate the child. All of them. None of them has ever really thought to protect him, they've all just tolerated him… his fate doesn't concern them in the slightest. There is no way he can go back there."

Dumbledore sat up straighter in his chair.

"Petunia is Harry's aunt, they share the same blood. I know that Vernon Dursley holds a very negative image of the magical world but Petunia grew up with Lily, and you know how attached she was to her. She will be able to make her husband see sense once tempers have calmed down, I am certain of it. Nevertheless, it seems evident that Harry cannot return. The protection has proven to be too weak and after what you have just told me, Severus…"

Snape interrupted him, his voice dangerously calm.

"You haven't listened to me, Albus. Or rather, you don't want to hear it. Yes, Petunia loved Lily. But she never transferred any of that love to Harry. To coin a phrase, 'You cannot force a person to love'. Listen carefully to me this time : that woman has never considered her nephew as anything but a burden and a nuisance. She, like her husband, did everything in her power to make his life miserable. By mutual agreement, they mistreated him, deprived him of food, treated him like a freak, and I probably know only the half of it. Petunia has no intention of making anyone see reason : one way or another she wants to get rid of Potter, and encourages her husband in this.

"She was present when Vernon literally pounded the boy, and she did not intervene. After that, she threw out the boy's glasses so you wouldn't find them, and would deduce from that that the boy did not leave of his own accord. The woman is a monster….the whole family are monsters . I would on no account permit the boy to set foot in that house again, not even if the wards were reestablished even better than before," he concluded, almost hissing the last sentence through his teeth.

He could see a glitter of amusement in the headmaster's eyes, well hidden by the shock his words had caused.

"My, my, Severus, what a passionate plea that was… and I don't blame you a bit," he added, seeing the Potions master's eyes harden.

"My mistakes regarding the boy are so numerous that the simple sight of him will make me blush with shame. I sent you to the Dursleys without giving you all the information in my possession, for which I am without excuse, Professor. It seemed to me that your view of things would be more complete and objective if you discovered them without prior knowledge. I had not realised how brutal the revelations would be, however, and…for that I am sorry."

He sighed. Snape frowned, preparing himself to listen to the headmaster's story.

"I have always known that Harry's family was not ideal in a number of ways. Mrs Figg, a Squib neighbour, was tasked with keeping an eye on him. Her reports indicated that the boy did not seem to be treated as an equal with his cousin and that the care accorded to him left something to be desired. However, it was never a question of mistreatment, strictly speaking. Considering the strengthof the wards which protected him, it seemed a small price to pay."

Snape clenched his teeth, but did not reply. What had the old fool been thinking ?

"In addition, I shared your fears, though for different reasons, that Harry would become arrogant and weak if he were raised by people in our world who would know his value all too well.. A wizarding family would have raised him as Harry Potter, famous hero, no thanks to himself …and a worthy successor to his parents. By staying with his Muggle family, Harry had the chance to grow up like a normal child."

Dumbledore watched the Potions master freeze in his chair again, ready to leap up.

"But I realise now that he never had that chance, not in the way I intended it, » he added. "When term starts again at Hogwarts, and Harry is once again safe, I will visit the Dursley family myself. After which, wizarding social services will have the task of removing Harry from their guardianship. By all accounts, this should not be a problem," he concluded with a sigh.

Calmer now, Snape nodded.

"To whom will you entrust the boy ?" he asked.

"That question merits some reflection, but I think that the Weasley family presents as a first choice. They have regularly raised the question in the past and already consider Harry as a son. I don't think Harry will object either…"

"No," agreed the Potions professor, "he would no doubt even see it as a veritable birthday present ."

The two men smiled slightly. The storm had passed… For now, Harry was going to have to be taken care of, and the problems related to this had only just begun.

"How has Harry behaved in my absence ?" asked Snape, more relaxed now.

He thought he saw a flash of mischief flicker in the headmaster's eyes.

"It is quite obvious that Harry the cat trusts only you, Severus. I wasn't able to get near him….but I did not try for very long either. My presence seemed to disturb him, but I did not want to leave him alone in his room. I followed your advice, but he didn't want to touch the fish I offered him. When I left him, he was hidden under a chest of drawers and glared at me as if I were Fang's long-lost cousin."

Snape sighed.

"He must be hungry, though…I'll go up and see him. His wounds being exactly what they seem to be, it won't be hard to heal them, but we'll still need to sort out his transformation problems. If the wounds reopen each time Harry returns to human form, they could rapidly get worse."

Dumbledore nodded.

"We're going to have a great deal of work to do with this boy before term starts . You saw nothing in the Dursleys' memories that could explain this new ability ?"

Snape thought pensively for a moment.

"Not in their memories, no, but there was something else…. In the boy's bedroom, I felt traces of magic which could not have been his. Something powerful, ancient and yet recent. I couldn't identify it, but I think the two could be connected ."

Dumbledore's eyes were sparkling now.

"Your extraordinary sensitivity to magic is not the least of your talents, Severus… I myself did not detect it on my trip there. Your gift was no doubt developed largely by your Muggle environment where you grew up."

Snape picked up the implication and frowned.

"I have never claimed that growing up among Muggles was a hardship, Albus. But the way Potter was brought up, on the other hand, definitely was one."

Dumbledore nodded and waved his hand in a conciliatory gesture. This was probably not the time to remind the professor of the many things he and the boy had in common.

But did Snape really have need of that? Seeing how he had defended Harry, and the rage that overtook him when he'd recounted the abuse Harry had suffered at the hands of his family, the professor's opinion had just taken a completely different turn.

And this situation quite suited Dumbledore.

If he had failed Harry for so long, he had scarcely watched over Severus any better, from his arrival at Hogwarts as a mere student. The headmaster heartily intended to remedy that now, and it seemed more and more evident that the solution was to be found in this possessiveness the professor suddenly had when talking about the boy, and in the blind confidence the cat had towards this same professor.

He followed the Potions master into the room where they found the cat hidden under the chest of drawers, in the exact spot where the headmaster had left him. Snape took the bowl of fish and smelled it.

"It is fresh... Mr Potter is being paranoid."

He bent down .

"Come on, don't be stupid, this fish is very good." He put the bowl down in front of the chest this time.

The cat kept his eyes trained on the professor, seeming hesitant.

Snape knew what was confusing the cat, but he was certainly not going to change his tone of voice in front of the headmaster. He felt that he had given enough of himself away today while reporting in the sitting room.

It was Dumbledore, however, who addressed the problem.

"I think Harry as he is now is no longer accustomed to your way of speaking. You probably don't speak to a cat as you would a student..." he suggested gently.

Snape groaned, but ended by resigning himself. Just as well to get this over with quickly, and it would remain strictly between him and the headmaster.

"Come on, cat. Come here. Dinner time," he said in his 'Shadow' voice. Seeing the cat hazard a fearful step towards him, sensitive to his change in tone, Snape suddenly realised that he had only ever used such a tone of voice for Shadow. He had never had a pet before and even less reason to address anyone in such a soothing voice.

He watched as the cat came towards him to eat the fish in the bowl at his feet. He had to stop himself from automatically petting the animal. He hadn't the least desire to turn around and see the look in Dumbledore's eyes just then, Merlin save him from this absolutley ridiculous situation.

When the cat had finished with its bowl, he finally decided to get up. Contrary to Snape's expectations, it was Shadow that the headmaster was staring at…nostalgically? Was he rueing the fact that Potter had waited for Snape's permission to eat, refusing the food offered to him by the old man, who saw himself as his protector?

Snape couldn't help but feel a mixture of triumph and satisfaction, that he quickly tried to suppress.

Potter was going to have to resume his human form, and the thought of it was in no way amusing. Truly not.

"What do you think, Albus ? He seems calm. There are only two of us and the room is familiar to him... Should we change him back ?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Do you have your potions with you ? I'm afraid there'll be a repeat of what happened earlier, whatever precautions we take."

Snape nodded. Yes, everything was ready, he had no reason to postpone it.

"Potter. Cat. Listen to me carefully... I know that your last transformation didn't leave you with a good impression, but we're going to make sure that everything goes well this time. No one is going to hurt you, you are safe. Trust us."

He took a step backward and looked at Dumbledore, who indicated he should start.

"_Animagus revelio!"_

A moment later, an unsteady and lost-looking Potter stood before them in his ripped clothes, his injuries still visible but not bleeding, Snape noted with relief.

The boy leant awkwardly against the chest of drawers, trying to find his balance and his wits. Squinting, he seemed to be battling to regain his awareness.

It looked as though the world had tilted for him too, and by more than five degrees, mused Snape.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak to Harry, but Snape silenced him with a wave of his hand. Better to give the boy time to resolve his dilemma himself before interfering.

He was rewarded a few moments later when he heard a weak voice mumble : "Where..." The boy held a hand on his forehead, eyes half closed, as though he were suffering the start of a migraine.

Snape opened a potion and pressed it into the boy's hands.

"Drink that, Potter "

Hearing his name, the boy pushed the vial away and tried to retreat.

Snape sighed.

"Harry. Take it, it should make you feel better."

Taking advantage of the boy's hesitation, Snape shoved the potion into his hands and lifted them gently towards his mouth.

The boy swallowed without a fight. He felt sick, he was no longer sure who he was, but the voice was reassuring .

A moment later, he felt his headache fade, and then he relaxed slightly.

"And to your question, we're at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," continued the voice in the same even and comforting tone.

"Sirius..." he murmured.

"Yes," replied another voice which made him jump. "Sirius's house... yours now, Harry."

The hazy silhouette who'd spoken remained on the other side of the room. That voice... he knew it, it was synonymous with safety, with authority too, and Hogwarts. That voice stood for Hogwarts. An old man. Dumbledore, yes, it was Dumbledore, the headmaster, who had watched over him since he'd arrived there.

But then, the other voice? He liked it and feared at the same time. He couldn't work out if it was unpleasant or comforting.

In a way, more comforting than the headmaster's, because... because? Images flashed through his mind, too fast, too many...

He heard Dumbledore's voice call his name.

"Harry, would you like to sit on the bed for a few moments ?"

It was actually a good suggestion. He let himself drop onto the bed, a good distance from the two figures. He hurt everywhere in spite of the potion... nothing unbearable, but he felt like he'd been trampled by a hippogriff.

He jumped when the old man's voice called to him again.

"How do you feel, Harry ?"

He really didn't know what to say to that question, or rather how to say it.

"I...fine. Sort of," he heard himself respond. Was that truly he who'd spoken? Yes, it must have been.

"Could you tell us your name ?" the other voice asked, that of the man in black near the chest of drawers. The man in black...the dungeons...Snape ! His name was Snape and he was... Oh Merlin... how could he...how was he…?

His memories were all jumbled up again.

"Harry James Potter," he replied rotely.

He sensed more than saw the satisfied look that passed between the two men.

"Cat..." he added, without knowing why. He had wanted to say another name, but held it back at the last minute. He didn't want to say this other name. It was his, and it was also ...Snape's ?

He stared at the professor, trying to get a clearer picture of the silhouette. Was it really the same person as was in his memory ?

Harry saw the man startle when he said his other name. He had confusedly sensed that neither did the man want him to reveal the name he had given the cat... Was he afraid of being ridiculed ? Probably... his memories were starting to sort themselves out in his head. He had spent a great deal of time with Snape in recent weeks, and the man hadn't acted as he usally would've.

"Harry, do you remember who we are ?" asked the voice of the man with the long beard. The one who had offered him fish earlier... Oh, god. What had happened ?

"You're Professor Dumbledore and..." he hesitated. How should he say it ? "Professor Snape. I think," he concluded miserably.

"Very good, Harry," Dumbledore reassured him. "You had us very worried. We'd lost track of you for a long while and were afraid you had come to harm."

Afraid ? Yes, probably... The two men seemed tense. There'd been that scene in the sitting room... in the dungeon... and before that ?

"Do you remember anything, my boy ?" asked the voice.

"Yes..." replied Harry without moving. "But it's all fuzzy...as if I were seeing it through someone else's eyes."

"The eyes of a cat perhaps ?" suggested Dumbledore.

Harry thought about that. The word resonated familiarly in his head. Yes, that made sense... He'd thought cats were good at jumping, but that it was difficult to lick himself to get clean…

Oh Merlin.

The teenager suddenly went beet-red as as the memories returned full-force to his mind. Memories that now made perfect sense.

"It's all right, Harry, you have nothing to worry about. We still don't know what happened to you, but you are safe now and we are going to take care of all this," Dumbledore said comfortingly.

It suddenly struck Harry that he would never dare look the Potions professor in the eye again. He had... oh blimey, he had taken up residence in the professor's lab for...how long ? A good two weeks, if one was to believe the man's shouts when he'd discovered Harry's identity.

He had never so badly wanted the ground to swallow him up. Of all the embarrassing situations he could've lived through, this one took the biscuit. Even the appearance of Moaning Myrtle in the prefects' bathroom hadn't made him feel so ill at ease.

The worst thing was that he couldn't bring himself to entirely regret his two weeks of amnesia. For possibly the first time in his life, he had felt safe. Protected. He was safe at Hogwarts, of course, but that was different... Something could always happen in the corridors, a basilisk or an escaped prisoner...and in the dungeon, he'd felt...oh, very well, he'd felt at home.

By the fire, in his armchair, on his jumper, with the Man in Black to protect him. It was completely pathetic...and yet he was already missing it.

How he'd been able to come to consider Snape as a symbol of safety, he didn't know..._There might be something to be said for amnesia, after all._

Thinking hard about it, the professor had had indeed contributed to this situation. He'd welcomed and cared for him... He'd had this way of speaking to him, paid attention to him, of seeking out his company, even.

He didn't want to think about it anymore. Not only did the situation make him feel sick with shame, but...it was over, wasn't it ? Snape was going to be furious with him. Really furious... The business with the Pensieve had been but a small foretaste of what was waiting for him now.

Harry was, at least, almost sure that the professor had no intention of hitting him. He'd had plenty of opportunity to do so and, even, to wring his neck…but he had brought him here, and cared for him.

"Harry ?" Dumbledore called to him.

The boy jumped.

"Harry, we'll need your help to piece together the last few weeks. We now know where you were when we were looking for you and the reasons you left, but there are many parts we don't know. Could you, please, search for your memories since, say, the moment you arrived this summer at Privet Drive ?"

An irritated clicking of a tongue answered the headmaster, and Snape's voice, colder this time, interrupted him.

"Potter, how do you feel ? Do you need a potion ?"

Snape was worried about his health ? That was new... no, not new, he revised, the man had been more concerned about his well being for the last two weeks than all the rest of the world had been for… what ? His whole life ?

"I think I'll be all right, thanks. It's just that everything is a bit hazy."

"Try to concentrate on memories that don't cause a problem. Your arrival at home, for example," Snape recommended.

Harry nodded.

"In fact, everything is quite clear until, I think... My birthday. Until then, everything was going normally."

Snape groaned at these words. Normally ? What exactly did the boy mean by 'normally'?

"Potter, before you go any further, I must tell you that I paid a little visit to your family. More precisely, I subjected your uncle to Legilimency. Understand from this that there is nothing of how your family acted 'normally' with you that Professor Dumbledore and I are unaware," he said dryly.

Harry felt himself flush violently Very well, after all, he'd been wrong, things could get even more embarrassing.

"They aren't... Well...things were complicated this summer, with Marge's accident, and Dudley's problems, and Uncle Vernon had health problems too..."

"Which didn't seem to bother him when it was a matter of inflicting you with a punishment more suited to a champion fighter, so it seemed to me," Snape said ironically.

He regretted his sarcasm immediately when he saw the boy's face crumple. If he was to watch over Harry, he was going to have to begin by not hurting him every time he spoke to him.

"Potter," he said more gently, "we will talk more about that later. For the moment, focus on your memories."

Haryr shrugged and continued, avoiding looking at the two men.

"No matter... nothing special happened before... Marge's death. Uncle Vernon was furious, he thought I had... well, yes... that it was my fault. And he..."

The boy swallowed with difficulty. Snape was tempted to tell him that they already knew, that it wasn't necessary for him to tell them, but the boy needed to say it... even if it was difficult.

"He got angry, he hit me. Hard. For a long time. After that, I don't remember very well... I remember that he told me to leave, that I didn't live there anymore. I thought about the wards... but, I don't know... I wasn't really thinking. It was...hazy."

He glanced apologetically at the two men before staring down at the floor once again.

"It doesn't matter, Harry. You have good reason not to remember that night precisely but please continue. It is very important."

The teenager took a deep breath.

"After that, I just remember having looked at the window, having wished I could escape that way. There are bars, you see, so...oh. Yes, you know that already. Well whatever, I think I really did get out that way... I know it's unbelievebale, but I really think I transformed into a, erm, cat."

He felt even more stupid saying it than remembering it, but the look on Dumbledore's face reassured him.

"We believe you, Harry. What we want to know is how it could have happened. Do you have any idea ?"

Harry shook his head.

"No... I wasn't trying to do it, not really, it was just...what I had to do, and I _could _do it. After that, I don't remember... Just that something really wanted to take me somewhere else, it was as though I was floating. In the end, I saw a big house in the distance, and I realised I was walking. On all fours, I mean, finally as a cat. One of the front paws really hurt, it hurt to walk, but I felt light and eventually I got there. After that, I saw Professor Snape come out of the house, but I didn't really recognise him. And, um..."

Harry felt himself blush again. And then ? Snape had picked him up ?

Dumbledore saved him by tactfully changing the subject

"Did you decide to try to find Professor Snape, Harry ?"

"No !" he cried before catching himself, with an apologetic look for the professor, "I mean, I didn't even know where you lived, Professor. I wasn't really thinking. I don't think I was really thinking of anything at that moment, except saving myself."

He was astonished when the Potions master didn't retort that Harry never thought about anything anyway, but Snape contented himself with a pensive nod of his head..

Evidently, he'd thought he'd heard a voice in his head, telling him to go to that place. But it'd felt more like an internal voice, nothing like the visions that Voldemort sent him or the Imperius curse. Still...his eyes sought out his wrist. Yes, it was indeed there, so strange and yet so familiar.

"But there was something unusual , that night ! I put on the bracelet that Hermione sent me!" he said, brandishing the object. "From what her letter said, it was supposed to lead me to someone who could help me !"

"Which it did, my child, more effectively that anyone could have imagined ! Do not forget to thank that remarkable young woman, Harry. She probably saved your life."

Stunned, Harry looked at the bracelet. So he had been in real danger that night. From his uncle, of course, but he had also been aware of that other presence, dark and menacing...

He suddenly felt very tired.

"Harry ?" called a serious voice. Worried, it seemed to him. Far away. "Is everything all right ?"

He felt the silhouette of the man in black move swiftly towards him, but his sight had suddenly become more blurred. His thoughts too...

Brutally, the pain returned, much more intense. With a cry, he brought his hands up to his scar, throwing his head back.

A voice...red eyes... Voldemort was happy. No, excited.

"Potter !" The eyes stared at him intently, piercing his scull, triumphant. "Oh Potter, how I have missed you !" He could feel the demented laugh and the hate wash over him in waves of pure suffering, while he tried to tear away the scar from which they were coming.

For a moment that felt like an eternity, there was nothing but the laugh and the eyes, his scar... He was aware of a voice from far away, but it didn't belong to this world.

Then suddenly, a word, a voice broke through and he understood it.

"Shadow ! Become Shadow again ! Now !"

He felt a firm hand on the back of his neck and he knew that he should listen. Even if the words didn't mean anything, they signified safety, an end to the pain...

A moment later, the eyes disappeared and the world reappeared. Not exactly the same world, though, it was the same room and he knew there were two other people there, but nothing was the same.

He tried to move and felt the warmth of a body against him. A familiar smell...black cloth, a grip that protected him from the world.

Shadow...he was a cat once again and he was in Snape's arms, held so firmly against him as he struggled to catch his breath_._

If he had been in human form, he would have without a doubt blushed to the tips of his ears. But he was Shadow...

Without thinking anymore, he pushed his nose into the hollow of the man's arms and, finally safe, succumbed to sleep.

Slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, the two men left the room and returned to the sitting room.

The cat firmly wedged in his arms, Snape sat by the fireplace. Shadow liked the heat.

Snape knew he wouldn't have been able tolerate seeing the cat suffer, but Potter...no, Harry. He had not expected the pang in his chest when the boy had cried out with his hands pressed to his forehead, before collapsing onto the bed.

Snape had thought for a moment that nothing would work, that he wasn't' going to be able to hear them calling, and then Snape had let the name slip out... and Potter, for it really was about Harry this time , aware that it was Snape, had responded. He had transformed, thus cutting off the connection with the Dark Lord.

He hadn't realised that he had grabbed the cat, at the risk of being scratched, but he was almost certain of what he'd seen when Harry had finally regained his awareness... It was definitely Harry who'd had that gleam in his eyes before finally losing consciousness.

Snape sighed. At least he was sleeping peacefully at the moment. The day had been emotional enough, and thank Merlin he had been able to get the cat to eat before Voldemort decided to pay a courtesy call.

"We are, at least, clear on one point," Snape said calmly. "The Dark Lord is aware that Harry is alive."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Which is a good thing, in that he will not seek to spread the rumour of his death to the public...but this is what makes Harry's situation very perilous."

Snape pondered. Yes, it was... The wards had definitely been destroyed and Voldemort knew it. They were going to have to be doubly cautious. He didn't doubt that the Dark Mark woud call him before the end of the day, and they had to come up with a good story to offer the Dark Lord. Nothing that would truly satisfy him, of course...If he were to learn that he had known where Potter was, things would become seriously complicated.

Dumbledore could not help but be touched as he looked at the professor and the cat. Severus had grabbed Harry as soon as he'd transformed and had kept him in a firm embrace, as though to protect him from any external attack...which was probably the case.

For now, the cat was asleep on his chest, his nose tucked into the robes, all his muscles relaxed. The professor absent-mindedly stroked his fur, his worried expression directedinto the flames of the fire. He had forgotten the headmaster's presence, all his thoughts occupied by the cat he had named Shadow.

The cat he had saved and to which he had become attached, the boy whose distastrous family life he had unexpectedly learnt of that very day.

"Are you angry with me, Severus ?" asked Dumbledore suddenly.

The professor raised his head, surprised.

"Angry at you ? About Potter ?"

Dumbledore nodded.

Snape wasn't sure he understood the question, but he was suddenly sure of the answer.

Yes, he was angry with him. Very much so.

But at that moement his forearm started to burn, and his reply was lost in a groan.

A big thank to Claire and RaeWhit for their wonderful job in translation ! I owe you the biggest chocolate cake ever ;-)

If anyone here would like to help with the translation, I'm sure they won't mind a little help !

A lot of thanks for all the wonderful reviews, it really makes my day ! A big purr from Shadow , this cat is starting to think he's a star, I swear !


	11. Chapter 11 What soul, Severus ?

_**Chapter 11 : What soul, Severus ?**_

"Take him," he'd said, handing the sleeping cat to Dumbledore.

But Shadow held fast to him in his sleep and he had to gently remove each claw from the cloth one by one… after which, the cat seemed vaguely aware that something was happening, and tensed his entire body, as he felt himself being handed from one person to another.

Snape gave up. Taking the cat back, he'd murmured a few calming words and put the cat on the armchair, regretting that he did not have the jumper. The exhausted cat soon fell back to sleep.

Dumbledore had an odd look on his face, half-hurt, half-moved, and did not try to pick him up again.

"Be careful, Severus."

"You should not stay here alone with Potter. Call one of the Order, Moody or Kingsley for a start," he'd replied, slightly nervous now the moment had arrived.

Dumbledore had nodded, but shot him a trusting look, as he did sometimes and which never failed to both exasperate and comfort him. Actually, these looks and the few words that accompanied them were the only recognition he aspired to at present… The only reward even.

But when would the old man stop being so desperately naive and sure of himself ?

"I trust you, my boy."

Severus himself didn't really share his confidence, but had neither the will nor the time to discuss it.

Grabbing his bag of potions, he threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and refused to think about how little the satchel weighed….

"Malfoy Manor."

The atmosphere at the manor was markedly different from his last visits.

The faces he passed on his way were closed, piercing him with curiosity, and excitement had replaced nervousness.

Actually, the atmosphere at the manor was electrified and seemed to grow moreso the closer he got to the Dark Lord.

He felt a familiar calm come over him. He had been in this position before and had survived. He would face him as always, with his head held high and all his mental barriers raised. No matter what happened.

Coming to a stop in front of the Master of the Death Eaters, he bowed deeply. The first few minutes would quickly reveal for him the tone of the meeting…

"Severus…" hissed the Dark Lord's voice.

"My Lord…" murmured Snape.

The dead-yet-alive wizard observed his spy whilst drumming his fingertips on the armchair, a dangerous smile on his lips.

"I am disappointed, Severus. Your services leave something to be desired," he drawled.

Off to a bad start, thought Snape. But then, what had he expected?

"Master, be assured I have done my best, but Dumbledore and the Order don't trust me," he said defensively in his humblest voice.

"Incompetence is no excuse. There are no limits to the old codger's naivety; that he has no confidence in you only confirms my opionion. I was wrong about you..."

Snape couldn't help but trembe.

"When I generously agreed to forgive you and take you back into my service, Death Eater, it was solely due to your status and skill as a potions master and spy. It certainly wasn't because of your wavering loyalty…" Voldemort arose and approached the spy, who fell to his knees.

"My Lord, my loyalty belongs only to you. My only ambition is to serve you to the best of my ability, but Dumbledore has become particularly distrustful since Potter's disappearance," he hastened to plead.

But Voldemort didn't seem to be listening.

"Your skills, then. Your intelligence. Your cunning. Your duplicity. All the qualities that make a good Slytherin…"

"Thank you, Master," murmured the Potions master, not so stupid as to draw hope from the comment.

"The potions you have delivered to me recently, Severus, have turned out to be particularly weak. How do you explain this?" asked the Dark Lord coldly.

"I'm not exactly sure,my Lord. I thought them as strong as possible, but fatigue could have caused me to make small errors in dosage; the brewing of them is especially complex," replied Snape.

"And I assume it is the search for young Harry that has exhausted you to such an extent..."

Snape heard sniggering behind his back. So, the Death Eaters were aware of Potter's reappearance.

"Yes, my Lord," the Potions Master dared to say. "It seemed to me that this mission was a priority."

"And sufficiently demanding that it induced the most sought after Potions master in the country to produce potions of such mediocre quality?" Voldemort let out a, 'Sss, Sss', a bad omen.

"Forgive me, my Lord. I will not disappoint you again."

Snape concentrated on strengthening all his mental barriers. The situation was critical; Voldemort could decide in an instant that he no longer needed his services and unleash an Unforgivable Curse that would render him incapable of spying... and protecting Harry.

Deliberately formulating the Dark Lord's potions to render them as ineffective as possible had been a serious strategic error...

"Really, Severus? Well then, let's see the new delivery," said the wizard scathingly.

Snape froze. This was going from bad to worse.

"My Lord, I beg your forgiveness, it is inexcusable... I have not been able to prepare the potions you asked of me. However, I have been able to obtain some information about Potter, at the expense of my time." This wasn't going to work and he knew it, but he had nothing better to offer.

"Something I don't know, Severus? I doubt that very much. A Potions master with no potions... a spy with no information... tell me, Death Eater, why should I keep you in my service? Give me one good reason why I should let you live."

"Potter is alive," Snape was quick to say. "Dumbledore announced it to the Order this morning. I do not know the circumstances in which was found nor where he is at the moment, but he is apparently in a bad way. The headmaster asked me for numerous potions to get him back on his feet, but I don't think they had the desired effect; they were probably too weak, my Lord."

"Continue," said the wizard dryly, his cadaver-like face fixed on Snape's eyes, searching his face.

"Dumbledore asked me to interrogate Potter's Muggle family, to subject them to Legilimency. I was thus able to ascertain that his uncle had beat him violently, leaving him unconscious in his bedroom the evening of his disappearance. From what I could learn, Potter must have sustained numerous injuries, as well as several fractures. He appeared very weak and despondent, even before his uncle's punishment.

"Upon my return, Dumbledore asked me for more potions, more specific this time, in order to treat the boy. He did not know the cause of the injuries before my intervention. He refused to let me see the boy, but I know that no mediwizard was authorised to be at his bedside... From what I could see, only Dumbledore is caring for the boy and knows his hiding place. However, he asked me not to leave the house and to prepare potions there for Potter. I doubt he was there, though, the old fool Apparated each time he went to him. Only seeing my Mark, at your call, Master, was able to convince him to let me go."

Having finished his account, he lowered his head again in a gesture of submission, awaiting the verdict. His story was credible, his defences had held, at least, he hoped they had. But he doubted it would be enough to assuage the Dark Lord's dissatisfaction.

The heavy silence which followed his report seemed to last for hours. Then Voldemort's voice put an end to his wait.

" _Crucio."_

As he collapsed to the floor, trying to hold back his cries of pain, Snape heard the voice calmly follow after him :

"I don't believe you. You're hiding something from me."

And, as if to add weight to his words his words, Voldemort maintained the curse until the Potion's master finally lost consciousness.

Severus pulled himself up on his elbows, all of his nerves afire. His vision was blurred and he wasn't sure he could speak, but after a few attempts, he managed to say :

"For you... my Lord...always loyal... I swear it... on my soul..." he gasped.

"What soul, Severus?" replied the Dark Lord softly. "I think you sold it a very long time ago..."

Snape didn't think any differently. It was an oath that meant nothing, but what else could he've sworn on? What was left? No one, nothing. Exactly what he had left to lose.

"To serve you... is my only reason for living. My life belongs to you..."

"That's a fact," replied Voldemort. "But it's not enough. _Crucio_."

A few moments later, a black, blessed veil covered the professor's mind as he slipped once again into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Help him! Help him, do something!" shouted the boy.

Dumbledore grabbed his shoulder in an effort to calm him.

"Harry, please, calm yourself. There is nothing we can do."

"But he's torturing him! Snape! He's in a really bad way, I've seen it, he can't last much longer. You've got to do something!" exclaimed Harry indignantly, his right hand scratching at his forehead.

Without the headmaster knowing how, the boy had finally woken up in human form, before starting to scream as a new vision hit him. Voldemort... and Severus. His heart constricted.

"Harry, Professor Snape knows what he's doing. He went there of his own accord, fully aware of the risks," the headmaster stated firmly. "I am sure he will return soon, in a better shape than you think. The professor has a great ability to rise above the... moodiness of his master."

"No, you don't understand, Voldemort thinks he's betrayed him, he thinks that he deliberately made the potions too weak and that he isn't telling him everything he knows about me. He's killing him!" shouted the feverish boy, still trembling from the connection that had just tied him to the Dark Lord.

"I saw it!"

Dumbledore froze painfully at his words.

Voldemort knew...Merlin protect them. And Severus was there...

"Harry, listen to me, are you sure Voldemort is convinced of Professor Snape's betrayal? Has he accused him of being a spy?"

The boy hesitated.

"No, not in so many words, he said Snape was of no use if his potions weren't strong enough and if he had no interesting information. He asked him to give him a good reason for letting him live."

Dumbledore sighed. It was bad, but not as bad as he'd feared. Tom Riddle was undoubtedly too arrogant to imagine for an instant that he was being double-crossed by his spy. He had accused him of incompetence and cowardice, but not yet of treason. Severus could still get away with it.

"Are you going to send someone?" asked Harry, his eyes full of hope.

"No," replied Dumbledore calmly.

At this, Harry leapt off the chair, grabbed the first object that came to hand and threw it to break against the wall.

"You can't leave it at that and do nothing !" he shouted. "He...he..."

"Harry," the old wizard said gently, "you have to understand... it would be too dangerous to send reinforcements just now. Voldemort would already have killed Professor Snape if he really thought he was a spy, which he would do instantly on seeing the Order come to the rescue."

The boy clenched his teeth, pale with rage.

"He doesn't want to kill him like that... he wants to make him suffer, so that he'll tell him everything he knows..."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Believe me, Harry, Voldemort would have killed him on the spot, information or no. Not only as a point of honor, but out of rage. Professor Snape is the best Occlumens I have ever met, and an excellent spy. He'll know how to get out of this fix. Please, my boy, trust me."

Harry searched his face for a long time and reluctantly nodded his head.

"He, you know, he…" The boy took a deep breath. "He took care of me. When I was a cat, when I didn't know, he was amazing. It was as though nothing could happen to me while he was there… and now… this is because of me. It'll be my fault if he dies."

He swallowed with difficulty. He hadn't thought he'd be able to say all that. But Dumbledore was Dumbledore, wasn't he? He had to understand, he had to do something.

"Oh, Harry," said the headmaster with a sigh. "I'm truly sorry. For not having been able to prevent all this, for not being able to do more right now than ask you to trust me. Believe me, Harry, when I say that Professor Snape would be mortified if he thought you believed that he'd not willingly made his decision, with full knowledge of the risks. Do not underestimate him, Harry; that would not honor him…"

Harry would've liked to explain that Snape, of all people, couldn't die, not now, and certainly not like that. But he could find neither the strength nor the words and a moment later he ran across the room, which had suddenly become larger…

No, he had become smaller. He jumped on the table, his tail whipping in the air. In this form, he felt more alive, more agile. He leapt onto the sideboard, then to a chair, scratching the fabric with his claws as he went.

When he'd galloped round the room several times, he finally felt better. His Man in Black would come back, he had to. He trusted him. And he could, once again, snuggle up against his shoulder while the man recovered from his injuries.

For the moment, his own injuries hurt, but it was good to feel them. It made him feel closer to the professor, and in a way, it was almost a talisman, wasn't it? Snape would have to come back to care for him.

Yes, he would come back. And he would never let him go again, if he could help it.

* * *

"I am disappointed, Severus. Extremely disappointed."

Snape let out a sigh. Why did it have to be that his two so-called masters persisted in calling him by his first name, but with such different results?

He bent his back a little more. He no longer had the strength to talk. Two days of torture and interrogation without respite had succeeded in sapping all of his strength. It was better in any case to await the verdict, he had done his best, he had let nothing slip. He would have no regrets if it wasn't…. no, no regrets.

"I am finally beginning to believe that you are really as stupid and inefficient as you claim to be." The Dark Lord actually sounded disappointed. "As time passes, you seem to lack courage... How old are you, Death Eater? Thirty-seven? Aren't you a little young to be such a coward already?"

Snape flinched. If there was one insult he could not tolerate, it was that one! But what did it matter, really? All the better if he believed that; cowardce was less dangerous than treason when faced with the Dark Lord. Wasn't Wormtail the best example of this?

"I will do better, Master... to serve you…" he managed to croak. He would have willingly given up ten years of his life for a glass of water. Though of course, it was highly unlikely that he'd manage such a bargain, in any case...

"That would be better for you, Severus. Much better. You don't want to see this little scene repeated, do you? Or even worse, to fail me in a more permanent manner…"

Past the point of intimidation, the Potions master felt hope again.

"No, my Lord. Never."

"You will return there. Make the potions again, good ones this time. You will get back into Dumbledore's good graces, whatever the cost, and bring me the information I requested. Where is he hiding the child, why did I lose touch with him for several weeks. I will not accept any further failure, Severus. Is that clear?" hissed Voldemort.

"Yes, Master... thank you…" the professor murmured.

He started when he felt a hand brush through his hair in a familiar gesture. The touch was repugnant and he had to use all over his willpower not to throw it off. Now was not the time to lose his nerve.

"Yes, you may thank me. I am far too lenient with you, Severus… That's why I'm going to keep an eye on you. A careful eye… The least misstep will be your last. You are quite aware of that, aren't you, loyal Death Eater?" the Dark Lord whispered.

At the end of his strength, Snape could only make an inarticulate sound in reply.

"It would be better for you if your loyalty is never again a subject for discussion. We will all be watchful. Our big family."

There was some sniggering in response to this declaration. There was no doubt that most of the Death Eaters would be delighted to keep an eye on the Potions master who had long benefited from preferential treatment….

Snape finally felt the dark wizard's presence move away.

"Go home. When I call you next, Severus, your potions will be ready and you will have answers to all my questions. If that is not the case…"

Severus looked up to see the reptilian face break into a smile brimming with menace.

He felt hands lift him up and carry him towards the fireplace. Somone shouted the name of his manor for him, and a moment later he was lying on the floor of his laboratory. The tiles had never felt so comfortable…

Thank Merlin, he was finally home…the fireplace was protected, which meant no one except himself and Dumbledore could come through, and he thought the wards around the Manor were strong enough to withstand any intrusion for a long while.

He was safe.

He hadn't leaked any information. Potter was not in danger.

He had succeeded. He had survived.

For now.

* * *

Two days. Two days since Severus had answered the Dark Lord'sdel sp call and had not returned. Two days during which Harry had been waking up periodically in human form from nightmares of torture.

The boy had lost whatever control he'd been able to have over his transformations. Dumbledore had tried to care for his wounds with the salve the Potions professor had left, but the teenager couldn't tolerate his touch, and had announced that he could care for himself. Given the number of cuts on his back, the headmaster doubted this, but did not have the courage to contradict the boy.

Who had been literally beside himself since his professor's departure.

Transforming from animal to human form generally during his sleep, he was nervous and irritable, unable to understand the Order's lethargy. When the visions from Voldemort overcame him, he refused to hide from them by transforming : but these visions sent him into a state of rage and frustration, leading to an involuntary return to his cat form.

His rage had only been magnified tenfold and the sitting room at Grimmauld Place now looked like a vast battlefield : precious objects and paintings lay on the floor, the furniture bore signs of scratches and the tapestry hung in shreds.

On the evening of the second day, Dumbledore came to a decision. They couldn't afford to wait any longer… By all accounts, things had gone very badly at Malfoy Manor, and Severus wasn't going to be able to get out of it alone this time.

He'd got it into his head that if something permanent happened to the Potions professor, Harry would never forgive him... and he himself would find it hard to sleep well again if he committed yet another error of judgement with regard to the Potions master.

Severus had long ago atoned for his mistakes and he could not help but feel a growing sense of guilt for having him risk his life yet again.

Alastor and Kingsley took turns keeping company to ensure the safety of Grimmauld Place, while Tonks had chosen to stay at the Weasleys. If Voldemort decided to search actively for Harry, he would without a doubt start with the Burrow.

But nothing arrived to threaten the two houses and it was now time to change strategy.

"Albus, everyone's here."

The wizard nodded and rejoined the Order members in the lounge, leaving the cat asleep in the room that had been Sirius's.

In the sitting room, the central core of the Order of the Phoenix was waiting for him. The atmosphere was strained, the tension around the table palpable.

"Snape's been found out, eh?" said Moody.

Several groans sounded from around the table, and all eyes turned towards Dumbledore. Misty with guilt , he realized.

"I fear that the last Death Eater meeting indeed went badly. It would seem that Voldemort has strong suspicsions about his spy's loyalty and at the very least, is accusing him of concealing information. Harry's visions have allowed us to establish that he is still alive, but has been subjected to torture and is in a bad way. I have waited as long as possible, but I fear that we can no longer hope that Severus will be able to return safe and sound."

Faces tensed with worry, but avoiding looking at each other. After having questioned the Potions master's loyalty on so many occasions, and openly making sure that he knew this, the situation was at the least embarrassing.

"Do we know where he is?" Tonks asked softly.

"Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort has set up his headquarters."

A group of distraught expressions answered this declaration. That didn't help the situation.

"In order words, if we want to get Snape back, we're going to have to get past the nutters and his little friends," Moody summarised.

"Indeed, Voldemort is in residence there at the moment and the wards are optimal. It comes down to considering our options, but it is clear that a frontal attack would be too risky."

"It's not just risky, Albus, it's suicidal. We have no chance of successfully getting him out of there alive, if he even still is..." Kingsley said.

"He is," replied a voice from the other side of the room.

Everyone jumped. Engrossed in the conversation, they hadn't noticed Harry slip discreetly through the open door.

"I saw him an hour ago. You can't leave him there... he's really weak and Voldemort's not giving him any time to recover. After everything he's done for us, you can't just decide it's too risky and leave him to die there! That'd mean we're no better than they are!" the boy almost shouted.

He trembled slightly, looking at the faces around the table. He could see guilt there, pity too and a dilemma.

To save Snape, risk it all out... it wasn't just about the spy, they all knew that. It was, above all, about them and the way they wanted to conduct the war.

"Snape knew what was at stake. He sacrificed himself for us and we'll remember that, but I'm convinced he wouldn't have wanted us to risk more lives to save him," Moody said, staring Harry straight in the eyes.

But it wasn't the boy who answered, it was the people around him at the table.

"It's out of the question to leave Severus there!" exclaimed Molly Weasley indignantly.

"I'll never lie down to sleep again with a clear conscience if we didn't try to save him," Tonks added.

"He has never hesitated to put his life on the line, and more than his life to save Harry. We owe him a debt," interjected Arthur Weasley.

The hubbub of protests continued, finally easing the tension in the little group.

Looking up from the table, Dumbledore met Harry's eyes, calm and confident for now. For a few short moments, they smiled at each other, and it seemed to the headmaster that in the end, hope and trust were indeed the best things he could give to the boy.

If Severus died today, Harry would be devastated. But he would continue to have faith...

"We need to think about this, Albus" said Moody, his voice rising above the others. "We can't rush blindly in and expect to get out alive. Idea of a plan?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but something caught his attention and he stood abruptly from his chair, under the questioning looks of the Order.

"Albus?"

"It would seem that, in the end, we don't need to rush to our Potions master's rescue. The alarms have just this minute informed me that he has returned to Snape Manor."

Cries of relief and surprise brok out, and Harry was at his side in an instant.

"Professor! We need to get there! Quickly!"

"Yes, Harry, I'm well aware of that. I'm asking all of you to remain here in my absence to watch over Harry. I will return as quickly as possible with Severus, if his condition allows," Dumbledore said as he threw a few potions into a bag.

"Are you sure, Albus? He might not be alone!" grunted Moody.

"It will be fine, the Manor is protected against all entry by anyone except me and the owner. Harry, promise me you will stay here until I return and not attempt anything dangerous!" Dumbledore insisted, his piercing eyes searching the boy's.

"Take me with you," replied the boy in a voice both calm and firm, surprising the wizard.

"Impossible, my boy, Professor Snape will need taking care of and I risk not being able to look out for you both if something should..."

"Take me with you, they won't know anything. Trust me. Please." His pleading green eyes riveted on the headmaster's, Harry transformed into a cat before he was able to reply.

A collective exclamation of surprise greeted this performance, but Dumbledore ignored it. He didn't have the time to discuss any longer. The boy was right, his cat form would hide him...

The day had been truly unique, he mused. Each of them had had their say... and much had been played out as they answered each other's questions. If he had to ask the boy to trust him blindly, then he had to accord him the same consideration when circumstance demanded it. And the look on the boy's face told him that this was one of those moments.

He nodded.

"Very well."

The voices got louder, but again, he paid them no attention.

"I would ask you nonetheless to remain here," he said, addressing the Order members who stared at him nervously. "It could happen that I'll have need of you quickly. As I said, I'll try to return with Severus...and Harry as quickly as I can. However, I doubt that Severus can be moved right now."

With a nod at Harry, he went to the fireplace and announced his destination. Relieved, the cat leapt into the green flames, followed immediately by the headmaster.

_Merlin, let this be the right decision,_ he thought as he took his place in the hearth. Because this was one of those choices that could have serious consequences.

A moment later, he almost stumbled over the body of his spy. Severus had never looked particularly healthy, no Potions master had, but his deathly pale and tortured face was positively frightening.

He quickly bent over to take the man's pulse : his heart was beating, weakly, but it was beating. His breathing, however, was much too fragile ; he quickly grabbed a potion from his pocket and forced it between the professor's lips. The man let out an almost inaudible groan, as the headmaster massaged his throat to aid the liquid to be swallowed.

"Severus, can you hear me?" he asked

But there was no sign that the man had heard him.

Dumbledore quickly transfigured the armchair into a bed and delicately settled the still body of the Potions master on it. He hastily scanned the laboratory and assembled a collection of vials on the table. He nodded after he'd rapidly smelt them; these were exactly the ones he needed. It would seem that the professor had anticipated that his return would be painful...

Dumbledore sighed. This foresight of Severus' hinted of something fatalistic that suddenly made him infinitely sad.

He turned back to the bed where Snape was lying and froze at the sight before him.

Harry, in cat form, had jumped on the bed and was curled up against the Potions master's shoulder.

Severus' face still reflected his intense suffering, but his features had relaxed and his face was slightly turned towards the cat purring next to him, trying to give him all its warmth and comfort.

At that moment, Dumbledore knew that Severus was going to survive.

That they were all going to survive.

**A huge thanks to Claire and Cyn who translated this story into proper English; if you are native English-speaking and k****nowing some French and feeling like helping with the translation, I'm sure they would be most grateful and me too ;-)**

**And a big thank to all the reviewers, I hope you'll like this chapter too, I love to read your comments on the story- don't worry, there is now 36 chapters in French, it won't stop so soon ;-)**


	12. Chapter 12 Of Cats and Men

**Chapter 12 : Of cats and men**

It took a day for Snape to completely regain consciousness and have enough energy to open his eyes. In the safety of the dungeons and under Dumbledore's watchful eye, he'd finally been able to lower his guard fully and let himself sink into a healing sleep. As sp healing and wholesome as it was, waking up was no less difficult...

The first thing he saw when he managed to get rid of the fog in his head was a cat curled up in a ball against his shoulder. No, not a cat, THE cat.

Shadow-Potter, ensconced there like an old house cat who had done so all its life. He didn't know whether to snigger or feel annoyed at this intrusion into his life and, good god, his bed, but he had to admit that the feeling was not entirely disagreeable.

He tried to sit up and let out a groan. The room spun around him... how long had it been since he'd felt this ill ? Images of the previous days played in his memory. Voldemort, Cruciatus, the interrogation... Very well, he had the right to feel a bit under the weather. He let himself fell heavily back onto the pillow.

Under the weather, nice euphemism, he mused as he felt all his muscles waking up and acute pain with them. He wasn't going to be able to stay conscious much longer if his whole body decided to remind him how allergic he was to the Cruciatus... If only he could just...

"Severus?"

The calm voice made him jump. He opened his eyes again to see Dumbledore's face leaning over him. Worry and relief were mixed in his gaze... It made Snape feel strangely glad.

"How do you feel?" asked the old man.

"I'm all right. He doesn't know," the Potions master managed to articulate. His vocal chords protested vigorously; it occurred to him that he must've used them more than was reasonable recently...

"I know, my child, I never doubted it. How are you?" the wizard asked again.

Snape made an irritated gesture. Did he look like he was ready to dance at the Yule ball? There was indeed something he needed to do, but he felt himself weakening bit by bit.

"Albus...fireplace...cupboard..." he tried to explain to the headmaster with a glance towards the wooden door he wanted opened.

Without a word, the headmaster went to the cupboard and opened it, before turning back to the Potions master.

"At the top…box…"

Without hesitating, Dumbledore seized the iron box that looked as though it had been there for years. He opened it carefully and took out an assortment of multicoloured potions that he instantly recognised. It was exactly the same collection of vials that Severus had given him several years before, in an identical box…

He returned quickly to the Potions master, who was fighting to stay awake. Without delay, he opened the first vial and pressed it against the professor's lips. It was swallowed without a word.

Coughing, struggling not to choke, Severus let the potion run down his throat and enter his bloodstream... Thank Merlin, he'd kept the box intact for all these years, in readiness of the day when he would have to use it. Four potions, of which the preparation was lengthy and complicated, for which the formulation was practically unknown… one he had carefully hidden from the Dark Lord. The means to wake the living dead, and this was exactly what was expected of him, wasn't it ?

He seized the second potion. The first had given him back his energy; this one was going to reduce the pain.

With a sigh of relief, he felt his muscles and nerves relax. Finally! It felt like ages had passed since the last time his body had been completely without pain.

Without waiting, he opened the third vial. This one was a healing potion, far more effective than those that Pomfrey got her patients to drink, and one which he himself made for to the Dark Lord.

Without touching the fourth vial, he closed the box and turned to Dumbledore.

"Thank you." He felt much better now; well enough, in any case, to give the headmaster a detailed report.

Dumbledore nodded.

"That was very far-sighted of you, my boy. I used the potions you left on the table, but their effectivenss turned out to be limited, given the extent of your injuries."

Snape grimaced. Few obvious injuries, but the effect of the Cruciatus and other curses, combined with severe poisoning… The potions he had prepared for his return had probably been no more useful than a glass of milk.

"This last Death Eater meeting was more…eventful than expected," he replied soberly.

"Yes, I suppose that that's indeed the least that one could say. Harry brought us several episodes by way of his visions over the last few days," said Dumbledore.

The Potions master looked over at the cat that was sitting uncertainly at the other end of the bed. He should have suspected… If Potter had returned to human form, he would not have been able to avoid the connection with the Dark Lord, whose rage had been particularly intense and prolonged…

He was surprised to feel concern for the boy: had it really been necessary for him to see and feel so much at such an early age?

"Potter, do you need a potion?" he asked abruptly.

The cat hung its head, but didn't answer, its gaze still troubled.

"Harry has received the necessary care. His Animagus form enables him to escape the mental connection, but he's still experiencing some difficulty mastering his transformations. It is a problem we will need to take care of quickly."

Snape nodded pensively. Where was the boy in all of this? To what extent had he been able to assimilate his two forms and the memories that went with them? And, why the devil was he currently sitting on his bed?

Yes, they were going to have to take care of the problem quickly, but for now he needed to bring Dumbledore up to date on the situation.

He sat up cautiously and transfigured the bed back into an armchair, before pouring himself a glass of water. The simple fact of being able to stand on his legs and swallow something seemed like the pinnacle of good health to him ; some days, his job as potions master seemed to have a useful yet terribly realisctic side to it...

"We're going to quickly need to find a secure location in which to hide Mr Potter. The Dark Lord is aware of his return and has decided to channel all his efforts to find him before term begins again at Hogwarts," he stated calmly. "In addition, my position as a Death Eater enjoying a certain amount of freedom has been compromised. My usefulness and loyalty were topics of discussion and I was ordered to very soon produce concrete evidence of my good faith. As well as adequate potions, that goes without saying…

"Severus," said the headmaster, in a voice that made the professor look at him, "you aren't going back."

The spy's face froze as he clenched his glass so tightly that it almost broke in his hand.

"Of course I am," he replied firmly.

"It is too risky. This last meeting demonstrated the limits of our strategy. You are more use to us alive, Severus…"

"In light of recent events, we cannot afford to be ignorant of plots being hatched in the enemy camp. I didn't play the repentant Death Eater for two days to give up now, Albus, it makes no sense. The next time the Dark Lord calls me, his potions will be ready and I'll have enough information to be useful to him. In the meantime, I need to guard my every move when I'm away from the manor. The Death Eaters have been ordered to watch me closely, and it's exactly this kind of order that every good Death Eater longs for… The chance to bring down a traitor and so rise up in the ranks." Snape smiled darkly.

"It'll be all right, Albus," he surprised himself by saying in response to the look on the headmaster's face. "I won't make the same mistakes again…"

"Those mistakes were inevitable in the circumstances and I am not convinced that they won't be so in the future. We will speak again about this later…for the moment, you should rest, Severus," said Dumbledore.

"After what I've just taken? Even if I wanted to, I'd be unable to sleep for a good twelve hours. There are certain things we should talk about in private, but Potter should not remain here, it is not safe," said the Potions master.

"Harry was keen to follow me when I learnt of your return to the manor. In cat form, of course…which he has mastered wonderfully, I must say, since our arrival here. He's ensconced himself rather familiarly by your side, Severus, but I'm afraid I didn't have the heart to remove him. His presence seemed to bring you calm somehow," Dumbledore explained.

Snape took a long, thoughtful look at the cat. Really? He shook his head. Shadow had done that before, of course, but that was Shadow….what was Potter after?

"You did well,he said curtly. "I would prefer nonetheless to speak to you in private ; perhaps it would be better if Mr Potter returned to Grimmauld Place."

"I promised the Order that I would bring both of you back when you were able to travel," replied Dumbledore. "If you feel well enough now, perhaps we could Apparate ?"

Snape groaned. A meeting with the Order, just the thing to cheer him up. "I suppose there is no way of getting out of it?"

Dumbledore laughed gently. "After you!" he said.

Snape rolled his eyes."Potter?" The cat looked at him with a tilt of the head, but did not move. "Very well," said Severus through gritted teeth, "Harry, come here."

The cat trotted happily towards the Potions master, who took it in his arms before he Apparated with a 'crack!'

Alone in the dungeon, Dumbledore could not help but laugh a bit more loudly than he would have allowed himself in front of the professor. It had not occurrsed to Snape for an instant that Harry could have travelled alone by Floo or Apparated with the headmaster…

Their arrival at Grimmauld Place bordered on resembling a diplomatic incident. Severus had barely Apparated into the sitting room when five people leapt up with a shout, their eyes trained on the Potions master and the cat he held in his arms.

The spy's instantaneous reaction was to whip out his wand and use his body to protect the cat, which huddled against him, just as alarmed at the sudden movement around him. In the next instant, a _Protego _shielded Snape, crouched down to ward off any potential curses, and the black cat firmly sheltered against his chest.

A shocked silence greeted his performance. Everyone was looking at the duo , their mouths hanging open, while the Potions master tried to regain his composure.

"Splendid," scowled Snape, standing up and letting go of the cat. "The next time you expect a visitor, would you be so kind as to avoid looking as if you were practicing how to ward off an attack?"

"A bit nervous, Snape?" sniggered Moody.

"No more than any bearer of the Blessed Cat would be," retorted Snape. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer me to put considerations of appearance before the safety of your precious Potter ?"

"That's enough Moody," Tonks scolded. "I was rather impressed myself, you have amazing reflexes, Severus!"

"Comes with the job, perhaps?" Snape replied ironically, hardly humored by the compliment.

"Potions master or spy? Oh, I suppose in both cases, it'd be best to have quick reaction times..." the young woman said thoughtfully.

"Brilliant conclusion. Harry?" the Potions master asked, looking questioningly at the cat.

A blink of the eyes told him everything was fine.

A second later, Dumbledore arrived, making everyone jump.

"Good, good," he said, "I see everyone has made it here safely."

The Potions master scowled in response. "Were you expecting the imminent arrival of Death Eaters? Judging by the reaction of your glorious Order, the place is not secure!"

"Reaction? Is there something I should know?" asked Dumbledore, his piercing eyes seeking out those of the Order members.

An embarrassed silence was the only response, while the Potions master crossed his arms. The cat, the headmaster observed, remained sitting at his feet, looking just as accusingly at the rest of the Order. It was Arthur Weasley who finally spoke.

"We were a little surprised. We had been waiting an entire day and we didn't know precisely what to expect when the three of you returned."

Snape raised an eyebrow in question.

"Oh, that's enough," said Molly Weasley with a sigh. "We were truly worried, Severus!"

"Truly?" he responsed sarcastically. "An yet it appears that Potter was not out of Albus' sight. The manor remains secure, Molly, I'm not mad enough to leave the door open to Death Eaters or their master."

"We were worried about you, Severus," replied Molly softly. "Harry had such frightening visions about you. We were afraid we'd never see you again… In fact, we were preparing to go and rescue you, or at least try to, when Albus told us of your return. We did not know what state you'd be in when we saw you again…"

Snape had paled noticeably and all trace of irritation disappeared from his face, replaced by an expression of incredulity.

"Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded to confirm Molly's words. "It is true. We had not yet managed to put a definite plan in place for your rescue, but we were getting ready to consider the possibilities before us."

"For Malfoy Manor? Do you realize just how foolish that idea is?" shouted Snape, with what seemed to be anger in his voice. "Even if you had succeeded, my cover would have been blown and I would have lost all usefulness as a result; such a suicidal plan would've been completely pointless! When will you lot stop acting like Gryffindors? This is a war, not a gentlemen's duel!"

"I told you!" Moody grumbled triumphantly

"We decided, particularly after Harry spoke up, that we could not, under any circumstances, consider losing you, Severus," Dumbledore stated firmly.

Snape stared dubiously at the headmaster for a moment before turning to look at the cat. Pressed against his legs, the cat seemed to be placing a barrier between him and the others, at the same time seeking his protection.

"And who, then, would have protected Potter during your heroic assault? Really, Albus, basing your decisions on the state of mind of an adolescent disturbed enough to think he's a cat seems excessively dangerous," said Snape.

"We didn't need Harry to decide that we had to get you back, Severus," Molly's soft voice interruped. "Whatever the case, we are very relieved to get you back in such good shape!"

Snape cleared his throat. The conversation was taking a turn that left him feeling definitely ill at ease…."Thank you, Molly. I am unfortuneatly afraid that this…good shape is only temporary. Albus, if I could have a word with you in private?"

But, again, it was Molly who spoke. "Is there anything we can do, Severus?"

Snape thought for a moment. "No. But Potter must remain in his Animagus form as long as possible. Could you keep an eye on him?"

"Erm….I don't think Harry has actually gained control over his transformations," said Molly hesitantly.

"Talk to him, try to keep him from losing control over his emotions and keep him awake. For the moment, that's all we can do. Harry, do you understand?"

The cat blinked uncertainly.

"Albus," Molly said, "the children are at the Burrow. I would prefer to have them here if that will not disturb you too much. They could also help keep Harry awake...and in his current form."

"Excellent idea, Molly," Dumbledore agreed. "I will leave it up to you to get them. We will be in the study on the first floor if you need of us. Are there any more questions?"

When there was no response, the headmaster led the Potions master to the stairs. Snape felt a flicker of hesitation as he met the cat's worried gaze.

"No nonsense, Potter. I will take care of your injuries shortly. And someone give this cat a bowl of food, for Merlin's sake, I can't spend my time forcing nutritional potions down his throat!" he ground out as he went up the stairs, leaving behind a rather annoyed cat.

No, he wouldn't do anything stupid and he wasn't a cat with a bottomless pit. He didn't like that his Man in Blace was leaving, it'd been proven before that no good ever came of that. Snape, goddamit, Snape…

He switched his tail back and forth, signaling his irritation. His Snape. After everything the man had endured to save him, he had the right to call him that. Well, perhaps not in front of him, of course, but no one needed to know that, did they?

At the other end of the room, Mrs Weasley threw a fistful of Floo powder into the fire before putting her head into the green flames.

A moment later, the familiar silhouettes of Ron and Hermione appeared in the sitting room and Harry felt his heart beat faster. His friends were here, summer could finally start! He heard Mrs Weasley murmur some advice and then the two adolescents moved towards him hesitantly. Wide-eyed, they stopped a moment to look at him, torn between excitement and bemusement.

Harry jumped gracefully onto a chair to bring himself up to their level and turned in a circle before sitting down and miaowing with satisfaction. Hey, they hadn't seen that one coming!

"Harry, that's great!" Ron cried.

"Really, Harry, you should be careful, don't rush anything, these transformations are dangerous, stay as you are!" said Hermione worriedly, shooting Mrs. Weasly a furtive look.

"Give him a break, Hermione, he's not an invalid! Incredible, you've even kept your scar! But shouldn't you have marks for your glasses, like McGonagall?" asked Ron.

"You know full well he didn't have them on at the moment when…well… when he transformed," replied Hermione carefully.

"Oh," replied Ron a bit coolly.

"But Harry, you're injured. Can we do anything? You have several cuts that look serious, especially that one there on your, erm…nose," Hermione finished, all of a sudden embarrassed.

Harry shook himself to show them that he was fine and then went off on a series of jumps around the room to demonstrate his new talents. When he got back to where they were, he could tell that his little show had had an effect. Ron was looking at him with admiration and envy, while Hermione seemed both worried and amused.

"Bloody hell, do you realise what all we could do at Hogwarts? Filch is going to have a fit, you won't even need your invisibility cloak anymore!" Ron said enthusiastically.

Hermione, obviously, didn't see things in quite the same way.

"Oh Harry, really, now's not the time to mess around! Are you all right? Really all right? We were terribly worried about you," she scolded.

Harry would've liked to reassure her, explain to her that she had saved his life and tell her how precious her gift had been , but he wasn't supposed to speak… He leapt onto the chair : he knew what to do. Sitting up on his back legs, he moved his head towards Hermione, miaowing soflty to get her attention. Understanding the message, the girl came near and instinctively reached out her hand, as if to stroke the cat. Before she had the chance to change her mind, the cat had almost jumped onto her hand, rubbing its head and neck against it. She felt a metallic object slide against her fingers…

"The bracelet," she murmured as she suddenly understood. "That was it, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded. The gesture felt strange for a cat, but he knew she understood him.

"I'm really happy, you know," she murmured. "I'd never imagined…I thought it might come in handy one day, obviously, but not so soon and not in that way!" She looked across at the Order members, who were now back in the sitting room but paying little attention to them. "I assure you I didn't do anything to make it take you to Professor Snape, you do believe me, don't you Harry? I would've never wanted that, I really don't understand how it happened!" she whispered forcefully, her worried eyes fixed on the cat's.

No, that wasn't working, Harry told himself. They didn't understand…Snape had taken care of him, the bracelet had done a good job! Obviously, he couldn't explain that to them, but it was still clear after what had just happened that they were mistaken about the professor, at least in part.

The cat turned in a circle, upset, then seeing the wounded look on Hermione's face, he realized that she had had misunderstood him. He didn't want her to hurt her; he would have the chance to explain to them later. He tried hard to put on his most serene expression and gave a friendly butt of his head against the girls' arm, which was stretched out towards him. A wan smile thanked him.

"Bloody hell, Harry, you must have so much to tell us!" moaned Ron. "It's really frustrating not to be able to, er, really see you! Are you going to be able to change back soon?"

Harry tilted his head, hoping that the boy would understand his answer: he didn't know, he wasn't even sure he could do it…

"Never mind, you'll tell us at Hogwarts, won't you? Things'll be quieter there anyway," Ron said, looking at Moody, whose magical eye kept rotating towards them. "In the meantime, I have to tell you…Fred and George, do you know what they've invented?"

Harry would have preferred to hear about Ginny's latest inventions, but even if he'd been in his human form, he wouldn't have allowed himself to say so.

All three of them squeezed into the armchair and Harry let himself enjoy the familiar feeling of well being. His friends, all there together to tell him the latest news from the Weasley family and the wizarding world, his world. Feet tucked under, ears perked towards the familiar voices, he let himself enjoy being on holiday. After a few minutes, he could've sworn that cats could smile.

"Sherbet lemon?" Dumbledore offered.

"Merlin, don't tell me you always carry them?" groaned Snape.

After more than an hour reporting on the last Death Eater meeting, if it could be called that, and the two days he'd spent at Malfoy Manor, Snape felt more exhausted than he would've thought, after taking the potions. And he certainly was not in the mood for a sherbet lemon.

Dumbledore laughed softly. "But, Severus, what wizard worth his salt leaves home without sweets or potions?"

Snape rolled his eyes. The comparison was outrageous! "Whatever, Albus, this does not solve our main problem. Where do you intend to hide Potter? But perhaps it would be better if I don't know, it might be too risky," said the Potions master.

"Don't be ridiculous," replied Dumbledore. "No one has proven to be more trustworthy than you have, Severus, when it comes to Harry, even without taking into account your immunity to Veritaserum."

"An immunity gained at the expense of a splendid intoxication every time the Dark Lord feels it useful to administer it to me. If he didn't insist on combining sessions of Cruciatus with his interrogations, my cover would have been blown long ago. It's a miracle no one has noticed yet," replied Snape.

"As always, your remarkable talent for dissembling saves lives."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, old man," Snape said with a half-smile.

Dumbledore smiled in return.

"Severus, are you really sure you want to continue with this?" he asked, "You really are too precious to us as an Order member and potions master; your position as spy is only one of the many services you perform for us, and lately that has become very precarious."

Snape sighed. "I must. We have already discussed this, no one else is in a position to report this information and we cannot do without it, not now. In spite of my recent disgrace, I remain part of the inner circle closest to the Dark Lord, in the best position, should it be necessary, to act from the inside."

"Must I tell you again that you have my full trust?" asked Dumbledore calmly.

Snap frowned and waved aside the declaration. He really felt tired now…

"You should have been their Secret Keeper, Severus. None of this would have ever happened," said the headmaster in a low voice.

The Potions master jumped. "What are you talking about?"

"You understood perfectly. The Potters should have chosen you to protect them, when they went into hiding to protect Harry. More loyal than Pettigrew, obviously, but I suspect you would have defended their secret more ferociously even than Sirius," replied Dumbledore.

Snape looked away. "That's ridiculous. Their choice was unfortunate, but Black would never have given away the Potters, even under torture… That blasted Gryffindor had too much honour for that," he said, much more awake now.

"Perhaps not under torture, no. Nor under Veritaserum, it would seem. But under pressure, emotional blackmail, hallucinations? How long would it have taken until he let slip his secret? But that would not have been the case with you, Severus, even if it hadn't been Lily's life at stake. You would not have succumbed to torture nor any curse, as you have proved to us over the last few days, and no illusion or attempt at emotional extortion would have been able to sway you. Your Slytherin spirit immunises you against manipulations that would've had every good Gryffindor giving in from the start."

This time, the Potions master laughed softly, thinking about the rescue plan the Order had plotted for him. Stupid sentimentality and chivalrous bravado that had no place in this war…

"That is why I see no one in a better position than you to take care of Harry for the rest of the holidays," concluded Dumbledore.

Snape literally jumped out of his chair. "You're joking. Have you lost your mind? It's out of the question, you hear! It's utter madness!"

'It is,' mused Dumbledore, and not 'it would be'…

"Voldemort would never think of looking for Harry at your house, Professor, he is far too convinced of your hatred for the boy. What's more, your manor is solidly protected by your wards and I would, of course, be your Secret Keeper. Such an arrangement would only be temporary as term starts at Hogwarts in two weeks time.

"I am sorry to impose this task and particular burden on you, Severus, especially in your current condition. But I have pondered this dilemma long and hard, and I see no other solution even remotely as sure that would keep Harry safe. You would be doing me an enormous favour, my boy. In addition, I have no doubt that should things take a turn for the worse, you would be the most able to defend Harry. He trusts you completely, he will listen to you."

"You don't understand," grumbled Snape, troubled. "Potter only trusts me because he thinks he's a cat, a cat that I have cared for and taken in, but it won't last. When he has properly processed recent events, Potter will fight tooth and nail against me, my rules and every word I say to him. And, believe me, it's a subject in which he is particularly talented."

Dumbledore smiled.

"I am not sure Harry is as confused about his different forms and…experience with you as you think he is. He is an intelligent boy, and a Gryffindor to the tips of his toes, or perhaps I should say claws… He knows better than anyone what he owes you after his visions, and he was the first to demand that we mount an expedition to save you. His speech would certainly have given you a migraine, my dear boy, he made us all out to be worthy heirs of Slytherin!"

Snape groaned. "Honestly, Albus, can't you see that we're heading for disaster? Potter needs to be in a familiar environment, like this house, and he'll need help to learn to control his transformations," he pleaded.

"Exactly," replied Dumbledore calmly. "Harry will never feel comfortable here. This place reminds him too much of Sirius and his absence. As for the assistance he will need, I am sure that you are more than able to give this to him."

"If the boy listened to my advice, it would show in his Potions marks! I was thinking of Minerva, Albus, who is the most appropriate to instruct him in the subject of Animagus tranformations!" argued Snape, sensing that defeat was in the offing.

"Minerva will have plenty of time to see to Harry at Hogwarts," replied Dumbledore firmly. "I know I am asking a lot of you, Severus, yet again… but you are the only person I trust to keep Harry safe and I know I am not the only one to think so."

Snape snorted again. "Really? I still doubt that your beloved Order will willingly accept your decision, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled. "Don't you believe it, I think this arrangement will meet no objections. But, in reality, it was not of them I was thinking."

The Potions master looked questioningly at him.

"I returned to the Dursleys' : I wanted to feel for myself the traces of magic you told me about. You were right, Severus, it was there, it is still there in fact…"

Snape straightened in his chair, all his attention focused on the old wizard. "Were you able to make anything out of it?" he asked.

"Some impressions, at the most. But one thing for certain, at the least. I identified the magical signature from which the magic came. You yourself would have recognised it, Severus, if it hadn't been so similar to Harry's."

The Potions master felt a lump rise in his throat.

Dumbledore nodded when he saw the look on his face.

"Yes, it was indeed Lily's. I was also able to detect, though much more faintly, those of James Potter and Sirius."

"That's….that's impossible!" croaked Severus, paler than ever.

"Indeed it should be," replied Dumbledore. "I have done some research…though I haven't had much time, of course, and my ideas on the matter are but supposition. Even though I doubt it is possible to find any more evidence on the subject, in any case…" Faced with the impatient Potions master, he continued, "I think that the origin of recent events lies with Sirius's death or, more precisely, his passage through the Veil."

"The infamous Veil…what is it for, exactly?" asked the Potions master, who seemed to have suddenly aged several years.

"It is both complex and vast, the extent of its powers remains unknown. But it definitely allows passage between the two worlds, in certain circumstances… This is why it is kept under guard at the Ministry of Magic. Its use is completely uncontrollable, but its powers are too great to risk it being used ill-advisedly," replied the headmaster.

"But Lily and James? They had nothing to do with the Veil," argued Snape.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "But Sirius, Lily and James had their very deep emotional bond with Harry in common. We are entering the realm of hypothoses here, but without a doubt extraordinary circumstances, extraordinary bonds that allowed the only people who loved Harry as parents to offer him what they never had the opportunity to give him : his heritage."

Snape was silent for a long time, comtemplating the headmaster's revelations. A picture came to mind…

"Albus," he said flatly, "the day I myself visited the Dursleys and after having… disciplined that odious pig who masquerades as the boy's uncle, I had a brief vision of Lily and James at the moment I Apparated. I thought I had dreamt it, but only so far as Lily… No, I cannot believe I could have imagined James's image in such circumstances. Do you think that…?" He could not finish the sentence.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "One thing is certain, my boy. A very powerful and ancient magic was manifested the night Harry turned sixteen. It would appear that from this he acquired the ability to transform into an animal, like his father and godfather before him, thanks to a combination of their magic and their love. They wanted to protect Harry, at any cost… Just after this, Miss Granger's bracelet transported the boy hundreds of miles away, far beyond its normal capacity. I have no other explantion for this phenomenon than that same magic. And the magic was guided by Lily, Severus. It is her power which catalysed the magic of James and Sirius. The bracelet does not possess a will of its own, and Harry did not know where you live. It was Lily who wanted Harry to find refuge with you, my boy. Lily trusted you, even before you avenged her son."

The Potions master was speechless.

Lily…if he had only understood earlier…if only he had been their Secret Keeper.

If only he had been Harry's father.

"Very well. Potter will come to the Manor. But a safe solution will need to be found for when the Dark Lord calls me again."

Dumbledore nodded.

"There will always be time to have him come to Grimmauld Place or the Burrow in an emergency. It is not a problem, Severus. You are doing me a great service."

At any other time, Snape would have agreed completely that he was doing the headmaster an enormous favour. But now, he felt especially as though he was protecting his own interests. His cat, to be precise.

Lily's son, his cat. He had a promise to keep and little did it matter what would come along the way.

"You have tamed the cat," concluded Dumbledore. "Now you need to tame the boy!"

A very big thank to my wonderful translator and beta Claire and Raewhit ! A new translator has joined the team, so the next chapter will probably be published faster than usual ;-)

This is a special day to me:Shadow is one year old today, as the first chapter of the french version was published excatly one year ago ! Thank you for sticking with us, and see you soon with another chapter ;-)


	13. Chapter 13 Black Cats Bring Bad Luck

A big thank to RaeWhit, Claire and Tia for the translation ;-)

Chap 13 : Black cats bring bad luck

The headmaster and the Potions professor were about to rejoin the other members of the Order of the Phoenix when shouts from the floor below made them jump to their feet.

"Albus!" bellowed a voice they recognised as Moody's.

A cacophony of shouts accompanied the voice and the two men rushed into the sitting room with their wands in hand, ready to face an orchestrated Death Eater attack.

But, arriving on the floor below, they found only five adults completely besides themselves as they shouted in all directions, while the two teenagers looked on, aghast, sheltering a black, green-eyed cat that seemed just as worried and surprised by the Order members' behaviour.

"What's going on here?" shouted Snape in turn.

"Bloody hell, the nerve of those Muggles! I can't believe it!" Moody replied.

"Albus," said Kingsley, "a letter has just arrived from the Ministry. I think you'll want to read it quickly… and in private," he added with a meaningful look at the children.

The headmaster took the letter he held out to him. The Ministry seal left him in no doubt as to the sender.

"It came through the chimney," Kingsley explained. "Apparently, it was sent to your office and redirected here. It was addressed 'To whom it may concern,' and given the 'urgent' label, we took it upon ourselves to open it without waiting for you."

Dumbledore nodded as he rapidly scanned the letter. When he finally looked up, all eyes were fixed on him and the entire room was silent.

"What are you going to do, Albus?" asked Tonks impatiently.

Beside her, Snape coughed to remind the headmaster that, unlike the others, he still did not know what had provoked such an outcry…

Dumbledore turned towards the teenagers sitting in the armchair and searched the cat's eyes. "Harry, a new problem seems to have arisen, and it's best that you be informed. This news might upset you, and I would like you to do everything possible to remain calm and avoid another transformation. Can I count on you?"

Harry thought that it was difficult to respond, since he didn't know what was happening, but he didn't really have much choice. He nodded again, a movement that seemed so strange in this form. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape come closer to him. Strangely, there was something reassuring about this… Hermione put a hand gently on his shoulders and he suddenly felt ready to serenely face all worst news in the world.

He was wrong.

"Harry, the Ministry has sent me this letter as a result of a complaint from your family. Your uncle and aunt have stated that we took you from them and they want you returned as quickly as possible," said Dumbledore in a serious voice.

Harry felt as though the sky had fallen in. He scarcely heard Ron and Hermione's cries, or her hand tightening on his back, but Snape's voice, on the other hand, could not be ignored. A voice that wouldn't have been more filled with menace and rage if Neville had made the dungeon explode, and Harry could almost hear, _'One hundred points from Gryffindor!'._ But in the end, it was the same idea.…

"Albus, I told you to let me take care of that family of degenerates!"

Harry wanted to protest ; it was his family after all! But on second thought, he had to admit that the insult was not totally undeserved. Why, then, did they suddenly want to see him again? Certainly not to assure his wellbeing.

"I thought I had been sufficiently convincing during my last visit… but I see that someone else made a better argument than me," sighed Dumbledore, glancing at Snape.

"Undoubtedly," the latter murmured.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Molly nervously.

"It seems obvious that these Muggles, who have no relationship with Potter except on paper, only want him back for a single reason : to hand him or, more likely, sell him to the Dark Lord," the Potions professor replied darkly.

A low murmuring answered him.

Harry froze. He knew very well that obviously the Dursleys didn't really want to see him again… but to leap from that to givng him to Voldemort ?

"No one will find you here, Harry," Arthur Weasley said reassuringly. "There is no question that these Muggles will get anywhere near you after what's happened. Bloody hell, Albus, the Ministry should be after them! Don't they remember that they were the ones who drove Harry away?"

"Not to mention leaving him almost for dead," replied Snape. "That's probably the idea, by the way... this excuse of a human didn't have a problem informing me that he'd be glad to cooperate with Voldemort if he intended to sort Harry out once and for all. I suppose the Dark Lord took good note of this."

"I'm ready to wager that Voldemort himself sent the letter to the Ministry," murmured Tonks.

"More likely their Squib neighbour" replied the Potions master. "Whichever it was, it doesn't make a great deal of difference to the original plan. Harry must be hidden for the remaining two weeks of the holidays, after which he will return to Hogwarts. Between now and then, things will surely have been sorted out."

"They will be," agreed Dumbledore, "But it won't be easy… Harry, I was planning to remove you from your uncle and aunt's care anyway ; I can promise that you will not return there."

Harry felt a strange warmth spread through him. He suddenly felt like sleeping… He was never going back to Privet Drive. Never. He would never see Petunia's face twist in disgust every time she saw him, Dudley would never push him around again, and Uncle Vernon would never again raise a hand to him. Never.

He felt his paws weaken beneath him and wisely lay down on the armchair, stunned. It was over. He hadn't been saved for good, but that precise nightmare was at least behind him. Never again the cupboard nor the bars...

He saw someone put a bowl in front of him. He sniffed it : a repugnant liquid was floating in there. He looked up to the person who had put it down and found Snape looking at him, an indecipherable expression on his face.

"Drink it. You''ll feel better. We can't risk you changing form now..."

After a brief hesitation, the cat lapped up the potion. Revolting, of course, but Snape had been right : he felt more in control of himself, the shock had passed. The Potions master nodded and returned to where Dumbledore was standing.

Beside him, Harry heard Ron grumble : "Since when does he call him Harry?"

"However," continued Dumbledore, "the situation is delicate. In order to remove guardianship from the Dursleys, it would be necessary to prove that Harry has not been well-treated there, and of course provide his eye-witness account... This would require Harry to go to the Ministry. I do not think this would be a wise move at the moment. In addition, the fact that the letter came to my office indicates clearly that the Ministry suspects we know where Harry is... possibly even that we are hiding him ourselves. We need, therefore, to be particularly vigilant. Of course, Harry's new powers give us a comfortable headstart."

"I was hoping that Harry would be able to come to the Burrow," sighed Molly Weasley, "but I suppose that is the first place they'd look."

"Indeed," agreed Dumbledore. "The problem has already been resolved, however, as Professor Snape has agreed to take Harry with him for the rest of the holidays."

While the Order members' faces betrayed only surprise and a certain understanding, the same could not be said of the two adolescents.

"No!" shouted Ron before flushing violently. Hermione had said nothing, but her expression clearly showed that she thought no differently. "No," repeated Ron more calmly. "You can't do that to Harry! Not after everything that's happened during the holidays! Surely there must be another solution, Hogwarts, I don't know..."

"Harry will be perfectly safe with Professor Snape," replied Dumbledore. "He would even be the best to care for and protect him, should the need arise. It is true that Harry's holidays have been very eventful, that is why he now needs rest and safety, as well as a few Animagus lessons. I think that you would agree with me on this, Mr Weasley?"

Ron murmured something incomprehensible.

"Will we be able to see him?" asked Hermione.

"His place of residence will be protected by the Fidelius charm," replied Dumbledore. "Depending on how things turn out, we will see if it is reasonable for Harry to leave to see the two of you."

He turned to Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry, I know that these aren't the holidays you had hoped for, but I am sure that you understand your safety is paramount?"

The cat miaowed its agreement.

But Ron hadn't finished. Taking a deep breath, he seized his courage with both hands. "Listen, I know you want to do what's best for Harry, but honestly... Harry hates Snape and, er... I think that everyone knows that Harry isn't, erm, Professor Snape's favourite student. There must be another solution!"

He exhaled sharply, as though he had just finished a particularly long and difficult race. He looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was watching and smiling at him almost... proudly? He instantly felt better. "In short, I don't think this is a very good idea," he concluded, breathing in once again.

Molly Weasley seemed on the verge of saying something, but Dumbledore stopped her with a raised hand. As was usually the case, the adults seemed amused rather than indignant at Ron's little outburst, Ron was slightly disappointed to realize.

It was Snape who answered him, in a much calmer tone than he'd expected. "I was able to abide Mr Potter's presence in my rooms for two weeks. I think I can do so again without being overly tempted to send him to the Dark Lord or force him to eat cat food. Although, the latter, of course, would be at his discretion."

At these words, Harry jumped off the chair and went without hesitation towards the Potions master. He looked at him for a moment before blinking his eyes and sitting on his paws, then turned toward his two friends.

The priceless look on Ron and Hermione's faces when he miaowed with determination would make him laugh for months afterward whenever he thought about it. Eyes wide, mouths hanging open, it was clear that they couldn't believe their eyes. Harry could hear Snape laugh sofly beside him. It seemed that this memorable sight would stay with him as well.

"Albus," the Potions master said finally, "given the circumstances, I think it would be preferable to sort out the Fidelius problem as soon as possible so that Potter can be kept safe."

"A wise idea, of course. It will only take a moment. Molly, Harry's things are in his room, could you bring them down so they are ready when I return?"

Molly headed for the landing while Snape and Dumbledore Apparated. To the Manor, Harry thought to himself... He was going to go back to Snape's house.

Two more weeks there... The first two had been perfect in his opinion. Snape had been friendly, kind even, and had taken very good care of him. But he hadn't really known then who he really was, and when he had found out, his reaction hadn't been the most positive...

Had the man really agreed to take him back or had Dumbledore forced him? How was he going to act around him now? He had called him Harry... but that didn't mean anything, did it?

He rejoined Ron and Hermione on the armchair. It was almost certain this time that he wasn't going to see them again this summer... The idea was a little depressing; he had hoped to stay at the Burrow for a bit and have a few days of proper holiday.

But, Dumbledore was right, he would be safe at Snape Manor, and more than anything... he wanted to go back there. He'd thought he'd never see the dungeon again, the fireplace and the armchair where he had spent all his nights listening to the sound of clinking vials and mixtures bubbling in cauldrons. He had felt safer during those few days than at Hogwarts and more at home than he had ever been at the Dursleys. That he could consider Snape's quarters as 'home' was especially troubling... but Snape had transfigured an armchair for him, had given him a name, a jumper... He hadn't contented himself with begrudgingly taking him in.

He had offered him a place to stay. He had adopted him. Come to think of it, he had never seen the professor with a pet; the idea of the Potions master stroking an animal was, in itself, very strange. And yet...

He would have truly liked to be Shadow. Just Shadow... a cat with no prophecy, no power, but who had a home, a master and no worries apart from when he'd get his next bowl of food.

The idea of a bowl of food made his stomach rumble. He was hungry and his cuts were prickling his skin...of course Snape was going to take care of them in a moment, as he had promised.

Evidently, things weren't going all that well.

He tried to chase away this notion by turning to Ron and Hermione. The disappointment was clear on their faces.

"Harry, we won't get to see you this summer!" lamented Hermione. "Term starts in two weeks, fortunately. You mustn't worry, I'm sure Dumbledore will find a solution."

"And we can catch up at Hogwarts," Ron chimed in. "I've already got loads of ideas on what we can do with your new form... We can talk about it again when we get back to school, but just think! Think about the Slytherin dorms!"

Hermione shook her head but didn't protest. "Harry, if there's a problem with, you know... Professor Snape, or anything else. Don't forget that we're here. If the bracelet could make you Apparate you once, perhaps it can do it again!"

Indeed, thought Harry, there were a lot of things to tell them the next time he saw them in his human form.

"And above all, don't do anything that could annoy him. Try to stay... a good cat," Hermione said with a smile. "I think he likes you, you know, in this form in any case. But... you be careful... that's all," she finished.

Harry was fully decided to do that. He rested a black paw on the young girl's face before turning to miaow at Ron. He didn't really know what he would have wanted to say if he'd been able, but his cat form solved the problem.

His two friends smiled.

"You know, I think that it'll take a bit to get used to this," admitted Hermione.

"But it's great!" added Ron enthusiastically.

Mrs Weasley had come back down and put Harry's trunk in the middle of the lounge. "Harry dear, I've put all your things in your trunk and added some supplies. Not that I doubt Professor Snape's competence when it come to cooking, but all the same, you should remind him that fish does not constitute a balanced diet! You need to regain your strength…and some weight!"

Harry jumped onto the trunk and miaowed softly at her in thanks. Her face softened.

"Oh Harry, I'd so much wanted you to be able to spend some time at the Burrow… you will behave for the professor, won't you?" she asked.

Harry was annoyed. He wasn't a child and so why did they all have to say that to him? It wasn't as though he continually went at it with Snape; they should have rather said it to the professor.

"He takes your safety very seriously, you know," Molly Weasley added.

Yes, he knew it. And he had no intention of making things difficult for him; he thought he'd made that abundantly clear by going to the professor.

Mrs Weasley gave him a smile that melted his irritation ; yes, he too would have liked to spend some time at the Burrow and enjoy Molly's kindness and delicious cooking. Sometimes he even felt almost as though he had a family, surrounded by Mr and Mrs Weasley and their children.

Hogwarts was a bit like his home and the Weasleys were a bit like his family… The Dursleys had never really been his family, though he had thought they were when he was younger. A family who had probably just concluded an agreement with Voldemort to get rid of him. He really wasn't too sure anymore where he belonged. His real family was dead and the only place he could really call his home at the moment was, if he had understood correctly, this house. The house that Sirirus had hated and where he'd been unhappy; Sirirus, whose death was his fault...

He suddenly felt relieved at the prospect of spending the coming weeks with Snape : the professor would surely give him a quiet sanctuary where he wouldn't have to think about all these things. He fully intended to sleep, sleep and sleep some more, as much as one could with Voldemort, the Dursleys and everything that went with them. He was going to roll into a ball next to the fire and not move away from itfor two weeks.

Snape and Dumbledore returned a few moments later, obviously satisfied. The Potions professor seemed more tired now; not surprising, thought Harry, when one knew that only a few hours before he'd been unconscious and incapable of stringing more than two words together.

"The formalities have been taken care of," announced Dumbledore. "Harry, do you wish to say anything before you leave? I am sorry to cut short your reunion with your friends, but the situation is particularly delicate and we would all be happier knowing that you are safe."

Harry thought he would've had a million things to say…but cats didn't talk. Without hesitation, he jumped onto the trunk and took a final look at his friends. They seemed disappointed, but they waved good bye to him .

"'Til the start of term, Harry, or perhaps before. Take care yourself!"

For his part, Snape nodded goodbye to the Order members and reached down to pick up the cat, in a way they suspected had become familiar to the two of them.

A moment later, the room disappeared in a whirl of darkness and Harry recognised the telltale smell of the dungeons, a mixture of wood smoke and acrid potions.

Snape put him down again on the trunk which had Apparated with them, and stretched, clearly relieved to be back at the Manor. Harry was surprised to feel the same sentiment and the same need to relax the muscles taut from the pervasive tension of Grimmauld Place.

"Well, Mr Potter, I shall show you to your rooms, but first we're going to deal with the matter of your injuries. Given that dinner isn't for another two hours, I think you could very well do with a snack."

The professor took a pot of salve that Harry recognised instantly : it was one he'd used on him before. And now that he thought about it, he had used it himself over the last few days… But why, then, did he need to do it again? How had the wounds reappeared?

Snape seemed to understand his confusion because he answered the questions Harry hadn't been able to put into words. "It seems that your transformations cause certain problems. Perhaps you do not recall, but when we forced you to resume your human form at Grimmauld Place, your wounds reappeared without our knowing why. It's probably linked to the problems you have with assimilating your two forms… whatever it is exactly, we should be careful. We'll see about transforming you back this evening to ensure that it doesn't happen again."

Harry wasn't at all sure he wanted to transform back, but didn't let it show. He was feeling silly enough as it was… yes, he really had believed he was a cat and, yes, he'd had trouble facing his adolescent memories. Something told him that now he was also going to have trouble facing his cat memories...

"Potter, jump up on the table and try not to knock anything over," the Potions master asked.

Potter. No, that wouldn't do. If he was going to spend two more weeks here, he refused to be treated like he was at Hogwarts during the school year! He didn't move and stared challengingly at the professor.

The latter got the message and rolled his eyes. "Very well. I suppose that I only have myself to blame… Harry, then, on the table, if you want me to take care with your wounds."

Satisfied, the cat leapt smoothly. The Potions master, however, seemed annoyed.

"Harry, did someone give you a pain reducing potion?" he asked.

The cat blinked in response. Yes, Moody had made him drink a particularly strong potion that had quickly made all the pain disappear from his body. The cuts stung, but they didn't really hurt.

Snape sighed. "Listen, Harry, the cuts aren't the only problem. You also have a broken arm and rib. The rib should have healed quickly, but... unfortunately your arm, or rather your paw, as things are now, has not healed properly. I am going to have to rebreak it to set it correctly. After that, you'll have to be careful with it for a while; that's why you will need to remain in human form so that you don't put weight on it. I'll do it in such a way that it won'thurt, but you really will have to be careful," he said.

Harry suddenly felt depressed. A broken arm and rib? How? When? He knew where all the cuts had come from, but...oh.

Uncle Vernon. He vaguely remembered having slid to the floor, half-conscious, and that Vernon had continued to hit him... He winced. A kick. Well then, he supposed he knew 'how' now.

Strangely, this memory hurt him more than the idea that they wanted to get send him to Voldemort. His uncle hated him so much that he had kicked him repeatedly while he was on the ground, all the while continuing to insult him... and Petunia had been there, downstairs, and hadn't said anything. They'd not only sought for another wizard to kill him, they had almost managed to do the job themselves.

He now felt slightly sick. He folded his paws underneath himself and lay down on the table.

Snape didn't say a word, but the hands that began to apply the salve were particularly gentle and light of touch as they massaged his injuries, as if he want to try to comfort him.

And in a way, it worked. At least someone was concerned with taking care of him and not wanting to hurt him...

When Snape had finished spreading the salve on, he went without a word to find the cat's bowl, and filled it with fish. Harry jumped to the ground and rushed towards it with as much dignity as his stomach would allow.

He heard the professor laugh quietly behind him. "I see that no one at Grimmauld Place followed my advice. I assure you that Molly Weasley lectured me soundly on the fact that an adolescent should not just eat fish. A complete meal will be served in two hours, but for now I will indulge this professed penchant for sardines in oil."

Snape went to the armoire and pulled out a few bottles. The day was still far from over...

The effect of the potions Snape had ingested earlier was starting to wear off; he should have known, as the potions in question worked miracles, but they couldn't work fully on someone who took them and manipulated them so frequently.

It would be best for Harry to sleep deeply through the night, because he himself would probably be in no condition to keep an eye on him if he decided to go wandering around the Manor. He quickly swallowed two potions and turned towards the cat who was licking his chops.

"Good. I suppose it is time to show you your rooms and the rest of the Manor, for as much as that will interest you. It's also time to resume your human form, Harry." He was definitely going to have trouble getting used to speaking to Harry informally, he thought. Be that as it may, it would have to stop at the start of term.

The cat watched him, seeming lost and ill at ease. From all appearances, he didn't have the faintest idea of how to proceed.

"It isn't a difficult technique to assimilate, but nevertheless, it is necessary to understand how it works. It is basically grounded in the will. We will have time to go more deeply into it in the next two weeks, but you have already managed to transform several times on your own. Let's see what you can do," said the Potions master.

Harry knew he had done it before...but he hadn't thought while he was doing it and at that precise moment, he had neither the desire nor the faintest idea how to proceed. He tried to visualise a brown-haired adolescent, then closed his eyes...

Nothing.

He glanced apologetically at the professor.

Snape sighed. "Very well, we'll have more time for this tomorrow. Is that your final word, Harry?"

The cat blinked.

Snape pointed his wand at him. "Animagus revelio."

The moment after, Harry felt his body rapidly transform. He had still never had the chance to approach the change calmly enough to pay attention to it, and he had to admit that the feeling was very strange. Not only did his body change in appearance, but he also felt his mind connect to a different frequency, with more subtleties, more nuances...

But when he found himself on two feet, he had to admit that it was not as unsettling as the first few times. He had all his memories, cat and human, and he knew who he was and what had happened to him. He even managed to keep his balance, more or less, and offered Snape a hesitant smile.

He was surprised to see the professor nod in approval. His expression, though, remained sombre.

Snape was relieved to see that the boy's wounds had not started to bleed again. It would seem that it'd been the shock of the first transformation that had caused them to reopen. But, Merlin, the boy was terribly thin and his blood-soaked clothes made him look as though he'd come straight out of a dungeon of Death Eaters.

"Harry?" he asked.

"Yes? Oh, er, I'm all right. I think," replied the boy. "It's a bit strange to change bodies, though I suppose I should be used to this one," he said with a small forced laugh.

"The superficial wounds seem to be under control for the moment. We'll look at the others later, if they aren't causing you any pain now?"

"No. Moody gave me something really strong, judging by the taste... but I think that a shower would do me good, if that's possible. And, er, I had better change," he added, looking at his clothes.

Snape murmured a quick spell in the direction of the trunk, which disappeared with a "pop."

"Oh, just one thing," the boy added, "I promise I'll listen to everything you say, but… I don't have my glasses anymore, so I can't be sure I'll catch everything right. My eyesight is really terrible," he apologised.

Snape frowned. The boy didn't know what had happened to his glasses… well, it was for the best. There was no point reminding him how dreadfully shameful his family was. He took something out of his pocket and held it towards the boy, who squinted to try to see it better. His face brightened.

"You found them!" he exclaimed, putting on his glasses, a big smile on his face. It was great to see again!

"Actually, the headmaster took the liberty of ordering you a new pair. The old ones have disappeared, and these will adapt automatically to your vision."

The boy smiled as he nodded. "In fact, I think I can see the difference already. It's strange, when I'm in my Animagus form, my eyesight is much better. I had almost forgotten how bad it really was!"

"Cats see much better than we do. You probably don't see well for a cat, but that would be very adequate for a human," explained the professor. "Shall we begin?"

The boy replied with a nod of his head.

"Very well. No need to show you my laboratory, I assume?" Snape asked ironically while the boy looked around, clearly embarrassed. Yes, not much point…

"Normally, I would forbid access, but I suppose that won't be necessary. So, you will be able come in here as long as you don't touch anything, as I believe you have a habit of doing."

Harry cleared his throat but didn't say anything.

Snape opened the heavy wooden door and the boy followed him. They climbed up a stone staircase that led straight into a wide corridor. The Potions master gestured towards the first door.

"My room. In an emergency you must not hesitate to disturb me, but my quarters are off-limits the rest of the time, just to be clear."

Harry nodded. The idea of skulking around the tyrannical Potions professor's bedroom was at once terrifying and very tempting…

But the Potions master had already moved on, pointing to the door opposite the last one, on the other side of the corridor. "You will stay here." He opened the door.

Curious, Harry took a few steps in and found himself in a plainly furnished room, the window with wide-open curtains showing a view of the grounds. The bed was made and his trunk was waiting in the corner of the room. He could also see that some paper and a few books had been placed on the desk. Had Snape prepared the room for him? The idea was strangely…well, both comforting and embarrassing. He noted a second door at the back of the room. The professor answered his question before he had time to ask it.

"There is an en suite bathroom. Should you need it, the laundry is the door to the side." Without losing any more time, the professor went out again. Harry left the room reluctantly ; he'd as of yet never had the chance to stay in such a spacious and comfortable room… and it'd been quite a while since he'd been able to wash himself.

Snape continued by showing him the sitting room, dining room, library and, to finish, the front door which, surprisingly, he had yet to use.

"There we go. You already know the grounds, I believe. Questions ?" asked Snape.

"Er, yes… if it's not too indiscreet, are there house-elves in the Manor?"

The professor pursed his lips. "Certainly not."

Harry wondered for an instant if Hermione hadn't just found a new member for SPEW, but Snape made quick work of dispelling his illusions. "You see how sorry I am, Potter, but you will have to clean your own room and put up with my cooking."

"That's not what I meant," Harry said defensively, "It's just…the Manor reminded me of Grimmauld Place or, I don't know, Malfoy Manor. I imagine it must be difficult to keep up…"

The Potions master relaxed slightly. "The example of Grimmauld Place and your friend Dobby should suffice to convince you that these creatures are not reliable. A spy certainly cannot allow himself to take this sort of risk," he replied more calmly.

The memory of Kreacher and Sirius hit Harry full-force and he felt himself growing angry. Oh yes, he understood the Potions master perfectly.

"Besides," the latter continued, "the Manor was built recently, unlike those you mentioned. It is not a family estate."

This last remark awakened Harry's curiosity, but he didn't dare ask. He didn't want to alienate Snape by being indiscreet…

"Anything else?" asked the professor.

"No, it's fine. Thanks," replied the boy.

"Good. Dinner will be ready in two hours, in the dining room. If you need me, I will be in the laboratory." With a wave of the hand he signald to the boy that he had the run of the house, before heading back for the stone staircase again.

Harry felt strangely frustrated, seeing the professor head to the dungeon. Yes, he really wanted a good shower and was very happy about the bedroom, but this part of the Manor was unknown to him and he felt slightly ill at ease there. One would've said that these rooms were rarely used, much less lived in. He would rather have gone back down to the laboratory as well.

Thinking hard about it, he couldn't exactly recall having seen Snape leave the dungeon during the weeks he'd spent here. He went up only to sleep and rarely to eat—always a quick bite-- in the laboratory. Why then did Snape live here if he hadn't inherited it? Because that was what he'd seemed to mean. The Manor wasn't as big as he had thought it was when he was a cat, but it was sufficient to comfortably house a large family. The Potions master had not seen fit to tell him what was hidden behind certain doors, and he didn't doubt that many rooms were in fact empty. But for now, he felt exhausted and really dirty ; he slid delightedly under the hot water jet in the little bathroom.

He carefully felt his arm for the fracture. It wasn't hard to find : near his shoulder the bone was at a strange angle… He winced. He should have noticed it earlier…

Didn't matter. Snape would take care of it.

The hot water running over him relaxed his muscles and made him strangely sleepy. The emotions of the day had worn him out, just as much as the transformations. Even if they appeared less trying to him now, it seemed as though they drained his energy very quickly, especially when they were precipitated by magic.

He closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation of warmth. He would have liked to be in an armchair down below, curled in a ball next to the fire. Before he had time to react, he felt himself suddenly shrink and change.

Oh no, no, he mustn't, not now! He opened his eyes wide in a desperate attempt to stop the transformation. In vain.

The moment after, a rather miserable black cat escaped from the bathroom, its fur soaked and its tail drooping.

Well, all right, so, he was starting get an inkling of how these Animagus transformations worked. And now, he really, really wanted to transform back into a human before Snape noticed and yelled at him! Even so, he couldn't take points from Gryffindor during the holidays, could he?

He tried with all his might to return himself to his original form, but ten minutes later, there was still a soaking wet black cat dripping onto the bedroom carpet .

And on top of that, he was really starting to feel cold.

He sighed. It would be better to go to Snape now than to leave the surprise until suppertime.

Still fortunate, he thought, that the door to the laboratory was at the foot of the stairs. But, bloody hell, he hated going down steps.

Once at the bottom he started to miaow weakly… it wouldn't do to make the Potions master jump in the middle of a preparation. A few moments later, the door opened to a rather resigned-looking Snape. "I suppose I should've expected it," he said as he stepped aside to allow him in.

"So, I can't leave you alone for five minutes without you finding a way to put yourself in an impossible situation?"

The cat looked at him, half-contrite, half-defiant. After all, he wasn't the one who'd found himself imprisoned at a stupid Death Eater meeting. In comparison, finding himself temporarily trapped in his cat form didn't seem like the end of the world.

Snape looked at the slightly trembling cat. He seemed exhausted and it reminded him terribly of Shadow in those first days …

Remembering the broken paw, the Potions master decided it would be better not to take any risks. He threw a towel onto the second armchair, grabbed the cat and put it on the towel, without further ado.

"Ready, Shadow, you stupid alley cat?"

They both jumped. No, the professor hadn't wanted to use that name…it had slipped out and he already regretted it. Calling the boy by his first name was one thing, but to go back to the ridiculous name he had given him…

He groaned. Enough nonsense. "Animagus revelio!"

From the expression on the boy's face as he sat in the armchair, it was clear that the use of his cat name had shaken him as well. He suddenly remembered why the second armchair was there, the way he liked to curl up against Snape's shoulder and…

His hand felt the towel on which he was sitting. Snape followed his gaze and the boy knew immediately that they were thinking about the same thing. The shower under the gutter, being dried on the professor's knees.

"Potter, if you even think about saying a single word, I swear I will throw you head first into the chimney without the benefit of Floo powder!" snapped Snape.

Harry made a small strangled sound, before jumping abruptly up from the armchair.

"And go and brush your teeth, your breath reeks of sardines!"

The boy didn't need to be told twice and hurtled out of the laboratory, taking the stairs two at a time, his heart racing. Oh, Merlin. He was never going to be able to look the professor in the eye. Finding himself on Snape's knees, being gently dried with a towel… and he had started to purr, he was almost certain…

He was going to shut himself in his room and pretend to be asleep when Snape called him for dinner. If he called him at all.

Of course, he could have laughed about it, but it was obvious that the Potions master didn't find the episode particularly comical, anyway. He had to admit that, at the time, he hadn't found it that unpleasant, far from it...

Hands gently rubbing with a soft towel to dry him, he'd had the impression of being….what exactly ? A child being dried gently after a bath. Yes, that was it exactly. But that had never really happened to him, had it ? Not before Snape.

Merlin. It was even worse than he thought. He opened his trunk and searched feverishly for some clean clothes. He quickly threw his wet ones into the laundry basket in the bathroom and threw himself, exhausted, onto the bed. If he could only disappear under the covers and make the world forget about him…

If only he could just be a cat, who allowed himself to be dried and carried…

With these thoughts, sleep overtook him and he fell asleep with his head buried in the pillows.

Dreaming about cats and potions…

Somewhere in his dream, he heard muffled knocking, and perhaps someone calling his first name, It wasn't Ron, the voice was male, but more serious… His dad, perhaps…but he didn't know what his voice sounded like and this one was familiar… no, not exactly familiar…

He felt a hand gently shake his shoulder and awoke with a start.

"Harry? Are you all right ?"

Snape. It took a moment for the boy to remember where he was and what he was doing there.

"I'm fine," he responded automatically.

"I did not mean to wake you," the professor explained. He seemed worried… That's what was unusual in his voice, Harry told himself.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, but he meant it this time, "I fell asleep. I don't think I really heard when you called me."

Snape nodded. "It has been a trying day. If you feel ready, dinner is served."

The Potions master watched as Harry slowly stood, worry lingering in his eyes. The boy was weak - it would be best to wait until the next day to take care of his arm… He himself would have a clearer idea of how to proceed with that delicate intervention. It was a good thing that the boy was tired, as Snape was dying to sleep and would feel much better if he knew the boy was sound asleep.

Dinner passed in silence. To Harry's surprise, the meal was really good. Although, as was a Potions master, that shouldn't have surprised him. He had never seen the man cook before, though, before the time in the dungeon. Probably because he lacked the time. He suddenly felt slightly guilty.

"Professor… if it doesn't bother you, I could take care of the meals. I know how to cook well," he added.

Snape frowned. "You don't like my cooking, Potter?"

"Yes, of course I do!" he hastened to reply. "I haven't eaten this well since the beginning of the holidays, honest! It's just that… I thought that you had other things to do. I really don't manage things all that badly, you know."

The professor slowly nodded. "Well. I suppose that we can take turns. There is no need to arise on schedule tomorrow morning; I think we both need extra sleep. You could cook breakfast if you are the first one awake. You will find whatever you need in the kitchen."

Harry nodded and dipped once more into his plate. He had no desire to ruin his first meal…a question of honor!.

When they had finished dinner, Harry expected Snape to want to take care of his fracture as he'd mentioned earlier, but the man no longer seemed to intend to do it. With a flick of his wand, all the dishes vanished, and then he stood.

"Do you need anything before bed? A potion?" he asked the boy.

"No, thank you. Um, what about my arm…?"

Snape tilted his head to the side. "That is for you to decide. I thought that we were both sufficiently tired after today, and that it would be best to put it off until tomorrow, but if you wish for us to fix this problem tonight, we can take care of it immediately."

"No," the boy quickly replied, "I prefer the first solution too. It doesn't hurt right now and I think I've had enough strong emotions for the day."

He hesitated for an instant.

"I… I wanted to thank you, for all that you're doing for me. I know that you don't really like me much and… well, I assure you that I'll do my best not to disturb you. Just tell me what I must do."

Snape gave him a strange look.

"For the moment, sleep. And in the second attempt, learn to better control your transformations and avoid the particularly dangerous and idiotic situations in which you routinely find yourself," he replied. "Whether in your cat or human form, I would like you to remember that it's out of the question to ever go beyond the Manor boundaries. That would be excessively dangerous for everyone. The Manor is watched very closely."

"I don't go looking for trouble, it's trouble that finds me," Harry defended himself. "And I don't have any intention of leaving the Manor. I- I'm happy here."

Harry felt himself flush furiously. When he looked up, he saw Snape's black eyes staring at him, his face inscrutable.

"All the better. The Dark Lord is unaware of your new Animagus capabilities, and that must continue as long as possible. In any case, practicing transforming and preparing for the return to Hogwarts should be sufficient to occupy the remainder of your holiday."

Harry grimaced. As for the time for quiet hols by the fire…he should've suspected.

Snape rose from his chair and the boy followed suit. Both headed for their rooms, their steps echoing in the large corridor.

"If you need anything... You will find Dreamless Sleep potion and others for pain in the bedside table. Their names and dosage are marked on the bottles. Don't hesitate to use them. I'll be in my room or the laboratory if you have a problem. A _genuine_ problem," he concluded, wrinkling his brow at the boy. He did not intend to be disturbed for a glass of water or an untimely transformation, not tonight.

The boy smiled at him, his green eyes boring into his own, Lily's eyes, soft and determined…

"I'm sure I'll be fine. I only want one thing: to sleep for the next two weeks. Thanks a lot, Professor. Really," Harry said, without blushing this time. He really had to let the man how much he appreciated being able to sleep in safety here.

Snape nodded. "Good night."

"Good night, Professor."

The two doors closed on their occupants and silence fell over the Manor.

A part of Harry would've liked to collapse on the bed and to go to sleep there, fully dressed, until sleep was done with him. But this was his first night at the Manor… officially. He moved towards the window to shut the large curtains; he didn't want to be awakened by the sun tomorrow morning. It was nighttime now, but he could just see the silhouettes of the trees beneath the moonlight. The estate grounds… it would be strange to take a walk out there in his normal form.

He pulled the curtains closed. Everything was going to be weird… and even better if Snape was too. This first evening hadn't gone all that badly, all things considered. Their conversation had remained polite as a whole. And Snape had called him Shadow! It seemed to him that his heart had stopped beating.

Could the Man in Black still think of him as "his" cat? Hi didn't seem to hate him as much anymore… even if the towel episode had been especially embarrassing…

They were both completely exhausted tonight. Tomorrow things would be different again.

Harry searched his trunk for his pajamas. His hand bumped into a box he didn't remember having put there: the twins' gift. He smiled – it would be best to wait for Hogwarts to open that one! He doubted Snape's sense of humor would appreciate this kind of joke. Far from it.

With a sigh of contentment, he slipped under the covers. The bed was soft, comfortable… definitely an improvement compared to his room at the Dursleys'.

He felt his heart constrict at the thought. No, he would never again return to Privet Drive. They definitely did not want anymore to do with him. In fact, they clearly wished for his death. All that because of Marge… really? Was there something to it, could he have somehow caused her death?

Dumbledore had not seemed very optimistic about this thing with the Ministry… Perhaps he'd have to see the Dursleys again after all. But Dumbledore would not let them take him and hand him over to Voldemort, of that he was sure.

But if he didn't have a choice? What the Dark Lord had done to Snape would be a joke in comparison to what he would do to him if he managed to at last get ahold of him. Voldemort certainly wouldn't be content with just killing him…

Snape… he had rarely seen the man as tired as he'd been tonight. All his features had been strained and he'd delayed repairing his arm until tomorrow. That wasn't like him. And Snape was going to have to re-break his arm. That was certainly not going to be a walk in the park...

Sleep finally managed to get the best of his thoughts, and he sank into a dream where Snape had to finally re-break all his bones, and contrary to what he'd said, it was painful. Vernon was firmly holding him down, laughing coarsely, as he assured Snape that he also needed to crack his skull into order to show his support.

It was Voldemort who had the last word, assuring them that a Cruciatus curse would have a much better effect and then proving it.

In the end, Snape was no longer in agreement with them about damaging his cat; it would put hair everywhere and ruin his potions. Vernon advised him to drown it, but Snape didn't want to. Voldemort also wanted to have him, but Snape wouldn't budge. Finally, the furious Dark Lord decided to break the Professor's bones in the cat's place.

If Severus had counted on getting a good night's sleep, he was quickly disappointed. It seemed as if he had scarcely gone to sleep when cries from the other side of the hall woke him.

He swore under his breath: Harry…

Wand in hand, he leapt from his bed and in a few strides he was in the boy's room, ready to face Death Eaters, or worse, Voldemort in person.

With a flick of his wand, he opened the curtains wide, and moonlight filled the room.

But Harry was alone and nothing was moving except the boy himself, screaming as he struggled violently in his bed.

Snape sighed: a nightmare. He supposed that he could hardly hold him resonsible after the day he'd had. He should have been more insistent about the Dreamless Sleep .

Anyway, the nightmare had to be frightening, as the boy seemed to be truly suffering.

"Harry, wake up," he called gently.

The boy moaned but didn't wake.

"Harry! It's a dream, everything is fine, you're safe!"

Again, no reaction. His face contorted, the boy gound his teeth in his sleep, before letting loose another agonizing cry.

This time Snape grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him as gently as he could. Just as well, as the boy jumped and literally threw himself out of reach to the other end of the bed. Hunched up, arms covering his face, he didn't even look at the man standing at his side.

"Sorry! Sorry, Uncle Vernon, I didn't do it on purpose. I won't do it again! I'm sorry! Sorry!"

Snape shook his head. The pitiful voice suddenly reminded him how very young Harry was. Maybe Snape hadn't given enough of a lesson to that bloody Muggle after all.

"Harry, everything is fine, you are not at Privet Drive anymore, you are at Snape Manor and you're not in danger. It was a nightmare," he said in the soothing voice used with Shadow.

The boy's breathing didn't calm, but at least he stopped his long litany of apologies. Or he nearly did…

"I'm sorry," he said hesitantly, half-aware this time.

"Harry, please look at me," said Potions master firmly.

Slowly, the boy lowered his arms and blinked at him.

"I have no intention of hurting you. I am here to protect you, and no one will be able to reach you here. Everything's fine." Snape felt rather ridiculous, but the boy was truly distressed. Were his nightmares always so violent?

The boy seemed to regain consciousness little by little, but his eyes were still confused.

"I'm sorry. For everything."

"Sorry? For what, Harry?" Snape inquired, intrigued.

"For all the deaths. For what Voldemort did to you. Everything." His voice was choppy and hoarse. Close to tears, the Potions master thought.

"You are not responsible for the death of your aunt, Harry. It's only a terribly hurtful and cruel excuse your family found to throw you out…"

"Not just her. Sirius and my parents… Cedric."

"Harry, you cannot feel responsible for all the deaths that occur and will continue to occur around you. Sirius and your parents knew the risks. They all made their own choices, and you cannot not offend them by denying them their courage. Voldemort was the cause and the originator of these deaths, and no one would ever think to reproach you for them. The same goes for me. I have chosen my position and have accepted the risks. You have nothing to do with either my choices or their consequences," Snape calmly said.

"If I wasn't there… nothing would have happened."

"True. There would have been many more deaths, much more horror, and as for myself, I would, in all likelihood, have been long since dead. Certain things were inevitable and horrible… but that doesn't mean they weren't worth it, in a way."

Snape was not sure that the boy understood, but he had to try. This child could not live and struggle with such a huge weight of guilt.

"It was still my fault," the boy murmured. His breathing was calmer, now but he seemed at the end of his strength.

"How is that?" Snape questioned softly.

"I bring bad luck to everyone around me," the boy replied with a sob in his voice..

Here we have it, thought the Potions master. What could he say to that? He moved closer to the boy who didn't try to flee this time.

"That's ridiculous, Harry," he said. "You're not responsible for everything that happens."

The boy sniffed. "Black cats bring bad luck, everyone knows that," he said bitterly.

In the moonlight, Snape could see the tears running down the boy's cheeks.

The gesture came to him almost naturally. Fatigue, he thought later.

Wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders, he started to stroke his hair as he would have done with Shadow.

"I would not want a cat of any other colour," he murmured.

Exhaustion probably got the best of the boy as well, because the moment after his head rested against his professor's chest, Snape could feel his trembling ease.

Several minutes later, his breathing was regular and Snape knew he'd dropped back to sleep.

Damn it, he probably wasn't going to sleep in his bed again that night.

But, strangely, he felt calmer and more at peace than he'd been in a long time, his hand caressing the brown hair of the boy sleeping against him.


	14. Chapter 14 In Control

Chapter Fourteen: In Control

At the break of day, Snape awoke, aware of a weight on his chest. He gently lifted his head.

The child hadn't budged.

And yes, he was indeed a child, Snape thought, as he looked at the sleeping face that seemed so much younger without the usual furrow of worry creasing his forehead. He weighed far too little for the sixteen year old teenager that he was….

What was he going to do about him?

After Harry'd finally fallen asleep, he hadn't had it in himself to abandon him there, to risk awakening him, or let him suffer through another nightmare. When he'd at last decided to get more comfortable by leaning back against the pillows, the boy had clutched at his arm in his sleep, refusing to let him go.

The gesture had left Snape strangely disturbed.

Had he done the right thing? When was the last time an adult had comforted the boy after a nightmare? Had anyone even held him like this since his parents died?

Snape doubted it.

But of all those around the boy, why did it have to be that he—Severus—was the one to do it? He'd sworn to protect the boy, obviously, but beyond the promise to Lily, he had to admit that the boy himself had touched him.

When Harry'd turned his back on those two insolent brats and come to Snape instead, he'd suddenly been proud of the boy. He knew how much courage it took for a teenager to stand up to his friends, even more so when it was over a hated Potions professor!

But Harry's loyalty was at once touching and worrisome. The boy had this infuriating tendency to experience things to an extreme, and that risked causing a problem.

Of course, he was going to make the boy drink potions to help him more easily block Voldemort's intrusions, but that wouldn't be enough to cloak emotions that were too strong.

If what Dumbledore had told him was true, the boy's visions were affecting him at the exact moment that Voldemort himself was feeling intense happiness or anger. Harry possessed neither this hatred nor violence, but he was all too sensitive in matters of attachment, kindness, and safety—in short, all that'd been lacking in his brief life.

It was _here_ that the channel between Voldemort and Harry was at risk of being opened, if Harry allowed his new emotions to unsettle him. The result could only be catastrophic.

Yes, Snape had to watch over Harry, but he had to take care not to encourage a relationship. This applied to both of them.

And he was certainly going to have to begin Occlumency lessons again.

He sighed. It was going to be a long day. But then, weren't all of them?

Snape surprised himself by smoothing a hand over the boy's hair. Everything would've been so much simpler if he'd actually been a cat.

He managed to reluctantly extricate himself from the bed without waking the child. Harry really didn't weigh much; Snape was going to have to adequate feed him.

It turned out that Snape was the one who'd be taking care of the first breakfast in their new living arrangement.

And if the profound sleep into which the boy had fallen were any indication, he'd not be touching pots and pans that day.

Snape smiled at the idea. He was curious to see the teenager's talents when it came to cooking…and hoped that his love of fish would be confined exclusively to his cat form!

oooOOOooo

When Harry opened his eyes, he felt more rested and at peace than he'd been in a long time. In fact, he didn't recall ever having slept so well, full stop.

He took a long time to stretch, smiling. The bed was really comfortable…

The bed?

What bed?

He opened his eyes, his mind foggy as he groped for his glasses. A thin sliver of sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, dimly lighting the large bedchamber.

Snape Manor. He was at the Manor, and….

Snape. He'd spent the night here as well.

Harry buried his head in his pillow as the memory came back to him. Snape had consoled him, had held him in his arms and comforted him like a little child…and he'd spent the night at his side. Merlin.

He couldn't decide if he should die of shame on the spot, or wait a bit and enjoy the feeling of well-being spreading through him, at just the memory of the night before.

It'd been like being Shadow, but better. So much better.

But still…Snape? What was up with him? The episode with Shadow had probably shaken them both up a bit.

He was all of a sudden not in a hurry to see the man again. What was Snape going to think of him? Was he cross because Harry'd wakened him? He'd seemed really tired last night, and had strongly lectured not to disturb him unnecessarily.

Guilt washed over Harry. It was probably too late to apologize by making breakfast. Best to get up right away. It wouldn't help matters to annoy the professor further by spending the day in bed.

Harry jumped out from beneath the covers and nervously put on the clothes that'd remained on the chair. It was only ten o'clock by his watch, but it hadn't been nine when he'd gone to bed last night.

Nightmare not included, of course.

He quickly opened the curtains, with a glance at the park as he did so: in the daytime, it seemed even larger than he remembered. Snape Manor was lost in the countryside: surely a good thing for a Death Eater…or a spy.

Wasting no time, Harry headed for the dining room. As he'd expected, it was empty. The professor had probably eaten several hours ago.

But for all of that, the table was not cleared away. Harry could see a still-steaming plateful of eggs and rashers, pitchers of milk and fruit juice across from him, and what he could identify as yogurt.

It looked like Snape hadn't taken any chances concerning Harry's tastes. As he started in on his eggs enthusiastically with his fork, Harry was thankful for the magic that'd kept his food hot. The meal had been there for hours, perhaps, but it seemed straight from the frying pain.

His stomach full, he wanted nothing more to eat, and was about to clear the table, when it emptied on its own. Intrigued, he decided to take a look at the kitchen: the fruit was back in its basket, the plate and glass in their cupboard, and not a single crumb was to be found on the floor.

Did Mrs Weasley herself know such housekeeping spells? the boy wondered. Clearly, the Potions professor had plenty of hidden talents. Did Death Eater training have a section on 'Housekeeping for Fussy Wizards'?

Harry stifled a laugh as he imagined a Snape and a Lucius Malfoy in aprons, wooden spoons in their hands, listening attentively to a Voldemort sporting a chef's hat.

If Snape happened to one day get a glimpse of this small vision of himself, it'd be fruitless for Harry to think of running, because death would surely be instantaneous!

It was senseless, too, to wonder where the professor was just now. It was only natural for Harry to find his way to the dungeon. With a light heart, he went down the stone steps; it was without a doubt so much easier in his human form. As he got closer to the door, the bitter odor of brewing potions reached him. He smiled; if someone had told him there'd come a day when this smell would seem comforting….

There…the sound of clinking bottles and a knife chopping roots. So many things forcefully reminded him of the softness of a jumper. He only had to knock at the door, and Snape would open it. And that was a good thing as well.

He covered the last meter and lifted a hand to knock, but it suddenly seemed as if the small space in front of the stairway had grown much too large, and that the door had become huge.

No! No, not again, it was ridiculous. Nothing had happened. So, didn't he have _any_ control over his transformations?

He had no time to think about it, as the door opened from within to show a mocking Snape. "Are you sulking, Mr Potter?"

The cat meowed in protest. That wasn't funny!

"If I'd known, I'd have contented myself with opening a tin of tuna instead of cooking. Did you find your plate, Potter? Or should I say, your bowl?"

The cat stubbornly refused to answer or look at him, and then took off, its tail rigid, to sit in front of the fireplace.

Behind him, he heard the Potions professor laugh softly. "Very well, Harry. Are you all right? Have you eaten? Need a potion?"

The cat turned its head to give him a curt meow. Yes, everything was fine, outside of the situation itself.

"Perfect," the professor said mockingly. "We know, then, where to begin our lessons this morning."

Harry suddenly knew that what he wanted to do most at that very moment was to jump on the table and knock over a few potions, just for the pleasure of seeing that taunting smile wiped from his professor's face.

But his irritation didn't last long.

"It's nice outside, all the better to make use of the park. I think a small change of scenery will do us good. We'll stay close to the Manor—foolish to take unnecessary risks."

Without waiting for the rest of it, the cat took the dungeon steps, four at a time.

"Harry! I recall having told you to take care of that paw! We'll see to your arm afterward, but I don't want any foolish games outside. You'll stay within a meter of me at all times. No jumping, no racing. Understood?" Snape asked in his best of Potions professor voices.

The cat impatiently flicked its tail and blinked in the Man in Black's direction.

If he had to… But he wasn't a doggie following at its master's heels!

When Snape at last opened the door, letting in the sun, Shadow had to fight the urge to run off at a gallop into the grass.

Fresh air! After the confining atmosphere of the dungeon and the dim light of Grimmauld Place, he'd almost forgotten how good it was to feel the wind in his fur. Or his hair, whatever.

Holding himself back to a little trot, he followed Snape as he walked a circle around the Manor. A little path brought them quickly under the cover of the tress, only several dozen meters from the building.

"This is far enough," Snape said as they came to an open space. "So. For now, I want you to concentrate on this place. The trees, the wind, the sounds, the smells. Try to grasp them with your cat senses, at the same time being aware of how they're different from your human ones. You must completely separate the two forms."

Harry had understood. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to catch the smells around him. Stronger, in a way, but also more intense, each one standing out instead of forming a confusing medley. The earth, the humus, and even Snape, a few steps away from him.

The wind blew his fur in the wrong direction, prickling his skin, where before it'd only ruffled his hair; the earth beneath his paws seemed alive.

He opened his eyes again and met the professor's calm expression. He seemed taller, of course, but Shadow could also pick out each little detail of his hands, his face, the way his jugular pulsed at his neck. Yes, his eyesight was much sharper than that of his human form.

A few moments later, Snape began to speak again.

"Just as your senses are different, your mind does not work the same way. That's what keeps the Dark Lord from being able to find you. But in spite of all that, in your different forms you are no less the same person."

Harry felt a weight leave him. Yes, he and Shadow were one, and Snape accepted that. He accepted _him._ At least, that was what he was seeming to say.

"Not being an Animagus myself, I could not be very precise on the manner of controlling these transformations. However, from what I do know, focusing on a specific image, a particular thought, can help to concentrate and channel your intent. Something motivating enough to make you _want_ to change forms. Why not try to concentrate on a particular feeling, unique to your human form?" Snape suggested.

It wasn't difficult. The best feeling in the world? Flying, of course! He missed Quidditch, and flying too. He could've used the park to practice before the start of term. There, high above the Manor, grazing the treetops, his hands gripping his broom, with the wind in his hair.

He returned from his daydream, aware that Snape was watching him with a small smile.

A satisfied smile.

Harry lifted a hand…. Yes, a hand, not a paw! He'd done it!

"My congratulations, Mr Potter, you've just accomplished your first voluntary transformation."

The boy smiled at him gratefully. Something told him it wasn't just by chance that Snape'd brought him outside for this particular lesson.

"Now, let's move on to transforming back. Take your time. Think of the difference in sensations between the two bodies, and look for a thought to channel the transition," the professor reminded him. But not that professor's voice he'd dreaded for all those years; it was the Potions master's calm voice, the one he used when he talked to the cat.

To Shadow.

What could represent Shadow? The fireplace, the jumper, the comforter, the potions…Snape. The man who'd given him all that, and who'd allowed him to feel safe for the first time in a long while.

Even if those moments were to never occur again, they'd always remain in his memory, attached to his cat form, to the incredibly pleasant feeling of having a home, of having _someone._

Yes, Snape represented all that he could hope for, in his cat form.

A moment later, a green-eyed cat stared at the Potions professor, who seemed thoughtful and satisfied. Snape nodded.

"I see that you've understood. That's excellent, at least for this session. I can't confirm with any certainty that you'll always be able to control these transformations—either to avoid or elicit them—that require mastery, and a long apprenticeship…which you've been the first to dispense with altogether. But at least you have the foundation to train yourself, which you will not fail to do as often as possible. It's important that these transformations be quickly brought under control."

The speech cooled the boy's enthusiasm a bit. Evidently, it'd been too easy… Just like the scar on his forehead, there without his consent, and it gave him powers he'd not asked for, ones he didn't control.

At least he knew where the scar had come from. As for his Animagus ability, he didn't have the slightest idea, and no one had bothered themselves to clue him in on the matter.

Focusing on the thought of flying in his teen-aged body, he tried to transform again. To his surprise, it took more time and effort this go-around. It seemed that being upset didn't help things. He probably had to have a clear mind, like with Occlumency.

Still, Snape gave him a slight nod of approval. "It's fine, Harry. Don't be discouraged if it's not always easy. In a while, it will seem wholly natural; it's just a matter of practice, I suppose."

"Professor, there's still something I don't get about these transformations. How was all of this able to happen to me? I mean, I never set out to become… I didn't know I could do it before the night when Uncle Vernon…and…well, even afterward. I didn't really know it. Couldn't all of this come from Voldemort? A sort of trap, or a new tactic…."

Snape stared intently at the boy. He could read the anxiety in his face, the tense crease furrowing his forehead again.

How long had Harry been thinking this? Was he so used to living with the unknown that the origin of his powers was occurring to him only now?

In one of those rare instances of his life, Snape didn't know what to say.

Tell the boy the entire truth, all that Dumbledore had reported to him of his findings, and risk shocking him and opening his mind to Voldemort? For a child with no memory of his parents, to learn it had been them who'd given him this last gift, that they'd been there, they and his godfather, whose death he still cried over…

No. It wasn't the right thing to do. Not yet, not here.

But he couldn't leave him in total ignorance either, not if this would trouble him again in his transformations… and his peace of mind, for as much as he had.

"No," Snape said at last. "It's out of the question that Voldemort has anything to do with this. Believe me, he knows nothing about your new abilities, and he would've never given you such a gift. Because that's what this is, Harry, that you can be sure of. Wherever it came from, it's a gift that's helped you and will help you again. An extremely precious trump card."

"Still, I'd feel better if I knew where it came from," said the boy with a sigh. "Is it possible that I've always had the ability without knowing it? Like…Parseltongue? After all, Voldemort _did_ give me that gift unintentionally," he said reluctantly.

Snape nodded. The boy wasn't wrong. "That's right, but the Dark Lord has never been an Animagus. Your father and godfather, on the other hand, were Animagi. If you inherited it, it could only be from them."

_And unnecessary to say exactly how,_ the Potions master thought.

"Professor Dumbledore fully intends to figure it out and do some research on the subject as soon as he has the time. It's really something that must be found out, but we're not worried about this, Harry. You shouldn't be either."

The boy searched Snape's eyes. The tension in his shoulders seemed to lessen.

A few weeks ago, though, his professor's little speech would've only fueled his mistrust.

Over time, the virtues of fish, and evenings in front of the fireplace…..

Snape gestured toward the Manor. "Perhaps it's time to take care of that broken arm."

Harry made a face. "I suppose. I dreamt of it last night. Wasn't very pleasant," he admitted.

"No, I imagine not," Snape said. "With an adequate potion, however, it shouldn't be painful. You mustn't hesitate to ask for it if you feel the slightest discomfort, Harry. Your body was severely strained and weakened by your transformations. You must absolutely regain your strength before the start of term."

They slowly made their way back to the Manor, or more precisely, to the laboratory. Did the professor sometimes use the real entryway? Harry wondered. He doubted it.

Harry was once again about to ask him about the Manor's history, and why the Potions master had chosen such a large building, when he didn't use it. Simple pride? Had Snape intended to start a family?

Again, Harry didn't ask his question. He had an idea he'd not like the answer…and that his professor wouldn't want to tell him.

They took the stairs down to the dungeon, and Harry surprised himself by being careful. He didn't want to change forms just now; it would be too frustrating, and Snape would be disappointed.

So what? After all, he wasn't there to impress his professor. Well, maybe just a bit. But only out of pride.

The smell of potions hit him, and he focused on the thought that he wanted to stand on two feet, his glasses firmly planted on his nose.

His glasses….

"Professor, when I transform into a cat, now that I'm wearing glasses again, will that make a difference?"

Snape looked at him with a slight smile. "Would you want to look like your Head of House? No, Mr Potter, your form was fixed the first time you took it, and it will no longer change. No circles around the eyes for you, then."

Harry smiled. He had to admit to feeling a bit relieved. No, he didn't particularly want to look the same as McGonagall!

"Really, as a black cat that likes living in a dungeon, surrounded by potions… It's more as if I look like you!" the boy joked.

He didn't miss the face his professor made. Touché!

"Take care not to draw hasty conclusions, if you don't want to end up as an ingredient yourself, young man. Cat eyes and claws are essential elements in several potions of quality, which you can't help but know, seeing that it's fourth year material," replied the Potions master.

Harry grimaced in reply, his eyes laughing.

"Sit here," Snape said more gently as he pointed to an armchair.

The boy obeyed apprehensively, then took the bottle that the professor handed to him. More painkiller, maybe. He swallowed it without thinking. The thought of having an arm re-broken wasn't a nice one….

"You've done this before?" he asked nervously.

Snape lifted a mocking eyebrow. "Broken bones? Have no fears on the matter."

Harry swallowed with difficulty.

"Everything will be fine," the professor reassured him with his 'Shadow' voice. "I'll do it so that it's quick and painless. Just the opposite of Potions class, in short."

Harry's eyes widened. It was the sort of joke _he_ could've made! Snape had just now said something funny, and not only that, he'd poked fun at himself!

The professor sniggered softly. "Shut your mouth, Potter, before I get the notion to make you try one of those potions that are so _dear _to you. And take off your t-shirt."

The boy abruptly closed his mouth, as he desperately sought for a reply. In vain. He quickly pulled his t-shirt over his head, trying to hide his embarrassment. Beaten by Snape at his own game!

Beside him, the professor was murmuring spells in a low voice in the direction of his shoulder. He finally pointed his wand and took Harry's arm in a firm grip.

"Ready, Harry?"

The boy nodded as he clenched his teeth together. This wasn't the time to make a joke…

His arm felt soft and shapeless as Snape used his fingers to prod the place where the bone had knit badly.

Without apparent effort, he pushed his fingers into the flesh to stabilize the arm, before breaking it with a sharp _crack._

When he heard the sound, the teenager let out a little yelp.

"Harry?" queried the professor.

"It's all right. I had…it was the sound, pretty impressive."

Just as it'd sounded when it'd broken the first time, he suddenly remembered.

Snape frowned, but nodded. Once again, he murmured some spells toward the shoulder, then handed the boy a potion that he downed in a single gulp.

"Tomorrow, you'll be able to use this arm easily. While you wait, I'd prefer if you avoid using it. Fractures that have not healed are always delicate to fix."

Harry nodded as he pulled his t-shirt on. After that scene yesterday, he hardly wanted to stay half-naked in this same chair for any longer than was necessary. He was about to stand, but the professor stopped him with a wave of his hand, then sat in his own armchair, facing Harry.

His mocking demeanor had given way to a somber expression, all traces of the smile gone. "Harry, there's something we must talk about."

The boy squirmed in his seat, and replied with a gesture of his hand.

"What happened this summer with your family?" the professor asked in his most neutral voice.

Harry scowled right away. "It's not important. Anyway, Dumbledore said I wouldn't have to go back there."

"_Professor_ Dumbledore. No, you won't be going back, but you're well aware that you'll still have to explain to the Ministry all that went on there, aren't you? No, just this summer—the way they treated you since you got there," Snape explained calmly.

Harry frowned as he looked at him. "What do you know about it? It's not…what you think."

"Indeed, probably not. And that's why I'd like you to explain it to me," answered the professor.

"Why? What about it interests you—you in particular?" Harry felt himself becoming angry. What was Snape going to do once he was back at Hogwarts? What was he going to tell them there—Malfoy and the others?

"That's not what's important. What's important is that you be able to tell the Ministry people in charge of the inquiry, and it appears that might present a problem."

"I thought you used Legilimency on Uncle Vernon," Harry said. "You know all there is to know, and even more, if you want my opinion."

"I'm probably far from knowing it all, but what I saw was enough to convince me that many assumptions about you had been terribly wrong. And not only my own. I cannot believe that Dumbledore knew all that went on in that house. Why didn't you speak of it before, Harry?"

"What good would it have done? I had to stay there because of the protections against Voldemort. Didn't matter that Vernon hates me, the wards held up…until Marge's death, in any case," the boy said reluctantly. Marge's death, yes, his fault, in short.

"And why does he hate you?" the professor asked quietly.

"For the same reason you do, bascially," grumbled the boy. "Because of what I am, what I represent—it doesn't matter. They never wanted me, they were forced to take me. I tried for so long to do what was expected of me, but I can't change what I am. That wouldn't have changed anything anyway. They hated me too much."

"Be that as it may, they've no excuse for what they did to you, Harry. None," Snape said gravely.

"It wasn't…it didn't happen often. Uncle Vernon was really beside himself because of Marge's death. I really don't know what he was thinking."

"He had enough presence of mind to beat you methodically for an extended period of time, in a way much too harsh for a child. It was cruel, premeditated and unjustifiable. It wasn't just an accident, Harry. It was dreadful, and he should be called to account for it," Snape tried to explain. The boy didn't seem to realize in the least how badly he'd been mistreated.

"It's not worth the trouble," Harry said, now nervous. "It's not as if, I dunno, I was his son or anything. He supported me for a long time, and he truly thought I'd killed Marge."

Harry felt frustrated. Snape didn't want to understand. It wasn't like he'd been part of their family, after all.

"He almost beat a child to death. Can you find an excuse for that?"

"I'm not a child!" Harry protested. "I'm sixteen, and I've never been a child." He felt himself flush. The words had just slipped out. He didn't even know why he'd said that.

But Snape didn't laugh, and he didn't lift that ironic eyebrow as he studied him.

"That's correct, Harry, you were never treated like a child, and that's regrettable. Even if the physical mistreatment didn't start until later, the way your aunt and uncle raised you bears no resemblance to what's expected of a normal family—to know love, and care, and protection."

"They protected me," Harry murmured.

"In a way, yes, by taking you in. But as for the rest? Did they protect you from their little brute of a boy? Did they treat you fairly? Did they give you attention? Did they ever show affection?"

The conversation was definitely extremely strange, Harry thought. These questions, coming from Snape?

But he knew the professor was right; Harry had to get ready for that interrogation. And somehow, here, in his armchair, with Snape, things seemed different. The Dursleys couldn't get to him. Not their scorn, nor their hatred, not when the Potions professor looked at him like that, so calmly.

The same look he'd had when Harry was a cat, when he was taking care of him.

It wasn't so much different from what Harry'd done earlier, when he'd had to look for the difference between his two forms. Snape had taken him in; the Dursleys had taken him in; and everything had been different.

"No," he finally said. "No, they never showed me affection, nor attention. And not love, for sure. They kept me in a cupboard for eleven years. And no, that's not a metaphor," he added, when he saw the professor's eyes grow larger.

"The cupboard under the stairs, that's where I slept. That's where they shut me in when they didn't want to see me. It wasn't so bad, most of the time, but when I was sick or whatever, I really wanted to get out…it was suffocating. And there was nothing to do in there; I didn't have toys or books, except for Dudley's old ones, ones he'd broken, but I had to be careful, if they saw me playing with them…oh well, they threw them away. I got his old clothes as well."

He looked at the t-shirt he was wearing: three times too large for him, washed-out, it'd belonged to Dudley a few years ago. He let out a small bitter laugh.

"Certain things didn't change. But when I got my first Hogwarts letter, Uncle Vernon made me move into Dudley's second bedroom. He was afraid of trouble, I think."

"And did they start to feed you a bit better?" Snape asked.

"Not really. I didn't have time to find that out…because every holiday…they seemed to forget that I needed to eat."

Snape looked at the boy. He'd pulled his legs in against himself, chin propped atop his knees, and seemed lost in his memories. Snape sighed. He hardly liked it, but he had to do it…

"About your uncle, Harry. Did he always have this compulsion to vent his frustration on you every time something bad happened in the world?"

The boy grimaced again. "Not really. I mean…if something happened at the house, if Dudley did something stupid, of course it was my fault," he explained.

_Of course._

"But…he didn't hit me, not like that. He was quick with his hand, but most of the time I managed to avoid it; a few times it happened…where he took his time, with his belt or something else. But that almost never happened, and never like what happened this summer. Really." He shot Snape a sincere look, in which Snape could read guilt.

The Potions master pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he make the boy understand that he wasn't responsible for all the misfortune in the world, and even less, most of his own?

"Harry, have you already thought about what your parents would've thought about this mistreatment?"

The boy's eyes widened. "Not really. I don't know, I don't remember them at all, so it's hard to imagine…."

"Do you think they would've treated you the same way, and that would've been all right?" continued the professor.

"No! No. I don't think so, but that's not…. Listen, Dudley was their son, and they took good care of him, they adored him, a bit too much probably. They're not bad people, it's just that they didn't want me."

"And that's normal, is it?" Snape asked gently.

"Yes!" Harry shouted.

He hunched himself up, furious. He hadn't wanted to answer that. Snape…. What was he going to do with all this information? And Harry didn't want his pity either!

But the professor held his tongue, and when the boy finally decided to look up, he saw that Snape was watching him, his face showing neither pity nor ridicule. Just understanding and something that looked like regret.

Their eyes remained locked on each other for what seemed an eternity. Snape didn't say anything, bit it seemed to Harry that his eyes spoke for him. No, it wasn't normal. Yes, you deserve a family. Yes, _you_ are normal.

After a long moment, it was Harry who looked down. He felt even more tired than when he'd gone to bed the night before…and the day had only just begun.

"Many people do not see in you, nor will they ever see, the Boy Who Lived, the savior of their world, or the son of your parents," the professor said at last. "It's enormous baggage to carry, with all that it implies. But what they're going to think, Harry, absolutely does not define who you are or what you are worth. Most of the bad things that happened to you were grossly unfair. And I must admit that conversely…the credit for your victories is fully yours."

Harry wasn't very sure that he understood what the man was trying to tell him. But it sounded good, almost like something a father could've said to a son. Or Dumbledore.

The thought almost made the boy laugh.

Snape had gone to a lot of trouble for him, and Harry appreciated it. But he wasn't so naïve as to imagine that he wasn't doing it on Dumbledore's orders.

No matter, it was good to be able to enjoy it.

He glanced up at the professor, who'd not looked away.

The protections due to his mother had fallen. He'd never felt so alone. He would've gladly welcomed protection, even of the mental sort, from anyone. Even from Snape.

Especially from Snape.

Harry was so tired. He wanted a break, a little break in his life, before going back to the battle, since he couldn't get out of it.

A moment later, a black cat jumped awkwardly from the armchair, and leapt to the one opposite.

The Man in Black could read in the cat's eyes all the hope and despair he was incapable of hiding at that moment.

The mans' face tensed, and he briefly closed his eyes. For an instant, the cat thought he'd push him away, or worse, hit him. But the hand that was raised rested lightly on his back.

The Man in Black had opened his eyes again, and he seemed as tired as the cat.

He gently lifted the cat, who weighed next to nothing, and laid it against his chest in the shelter of his arms.

Without another thought, the cat buried its head in the crook of his shoulder, and let loose a sigh.

He fell asleep, his last thought sounding like an echo in his head.

'Let me believe it for a moment…for just a moment.'


	15. Chapter 15 No Man's Land

Thanks to RaeWhit for the translation ;-)

**Chapter Fifteen: No Man's Land**

The familiar sound of clinking phials, the crackling fire, a cauldron being moved…. Harry knew right away where he was when he started to wake up.

He'd felt Snape gently move him in his sleep to his armchair, and had felt the comforting hand upon his head.

Still, something wasn't right, he just knew it. The whole time the man had held him, firmly pressed against his chest, he'd been tense. As if he were afraid of both letting him go and keeping him there

Harry stirred a bit on his jumper. He felt like he didn't have much space. Nothing surprising about that, he thought, as he noticed he'd changed forms in his sleep, and was now hunched up in the chair in his human form.

Without a sound, he looked up to the Potions master who, so like himself, was bent over a cauldron, observing the mixture as it boiled.

Was it the fumes that made his hair so greasy? the boy wondered. Another question he wasn't ready to ask his professor.

Watching him like this, moving quietly from a cauldron to an open book on the table, his movements precise and sure, Harry couldn't help but feel a vague sense of well-being spread through him.

Snape's silence had become more precious to Harry than Dumbledore's reassurances were meant to be.

"Since you're awake, Potter, come help me."

The boy jumped, startled. Potter? That wasn't a good sign. Had he gone too far earlier, searching for comfort once again from the Potions master? Come to think of it, Harry's reactions had been especially childish and over-familiar.

Harry swallowed hard as he got up.

Snape handed him a long wooden spoon without looking at him, his eyes fastened on the spell book. "Gently stir the cauldron behind you in a clockwise direction."

Harry obeyed without a word. It seemed the Potions master was annoyed and anxious. He kept bringing his hand up to his forearm.

The Death Eater Mark, Harry suddenly remembered. Had Voldemort summoned him?

"Professor," he risked saying.

It took Snape a few moments to reluctantly look away from the pages. Only then did it seem he actually noticed the boy was there. "Harry. How's your arm?" he asked, holding out a hand to verify for himself.

"Um…better, thanks. The break aches a bit, but it doesn't really hurt."

The professor frowned. "The potion's worn off. I should've woken you earlier, but you need to get your strength back. The potion I gave you to soften then regrow the bone is especially exhausting to the body."

Harry nodded; he understood better now.

"You must be hungry. You skipped the noon meal. Your plate is still up there, if you'd like it. Supper is in three hours, but it'd be best for you to get stronger more quickly," Snape continued as he finished examining his arm.

"The fracture is correctly reset. Here, drink this," he directed, giving the boy a potion. "And, ah, that one should restore your strength. But nothing takes the place of a good meal," he stopped when he saw the boy's expression.

Harry was smiling slightly, but more than that, it was his eyes that smiled.

Very well. He'd deserved that. Snape knew he shouldn't let the teenager suspect him of being soft, but wouldn't it be worse to let him face this summer and his nightmares alone? So why hadn't anyone ever taken care of the boy's mental state?

Perhaps he didn't need to overprotect him like a second Molly Weasley. But to be honest, Harry needed his care and supervision, not to mention a nutritious and balanced diet.

Oh very well, he was making too much of it. Merlin, if the Dark Lord were to know a tenth of what went on here, his next Death Eater meeting might very well be his last.

By Merlin, he'd no intention of reliving the last one.

"I feel completely able to handle two meals, Professor. Would it…" Harry stopped, hesitant to continue.

"Yes, Potter? Make an effort. It's your arm that's disabled, not your brain."

"Would it bother you if I ate here?" he finally got out. "I feel more at ease here than up there, maybe because I ate most of my…bowls downstairs."

Snape stared at the boy, who had dark circles under his eyes, and was pale….

"This time. But don't make a habit of it."

With a quick incantation, he made the plate appear on the laboratory table, and invited the boy to sit down.

"I'm sorry I missed preparing the first two meals, Professor, really. I'll take care of supper for sure," Harry said eagerly. "If there's something else I can do…."

"Eat," grumbled the professor. "As I've already told you, you're here to regain your strength and learn to better control your transformations. We'll also see to taking up Occlumency lessons again, but I'm a bit pressed for time today."

"Professor…you don't have to… I…"

"Of course you do," the Potions master replied sharply.

Harry cleared his throat. "Professor, I'm really, really sorry about what happened the last time. The Pensieve…I thought…. Doesn't matter. I truly regret it, I wanted you to know."

Snape let out a small snigger, his head still bent over the top of the cauldron. "Keep your apologies to yourself, Potter. Or save them for future failures. You'll be taking lessons again, you can be sure of it. And it'd be best for you to prepare seriously for them this time."

The boy sighed. "It's not that…I really know that now. It's what my father did. It was…Slytherin, I think. I don't know. Maybe I had prejudices myself as well, and in the end they had nothing to do with reality."

This time, Snape looked up, his eyes suspicious. "What do you mean by that?"

"I thought my father…everyone tells me I'm so like him, but I'd never have done such a thing. It's the sort of prank I can picture Malfoy doing, not my father or Sirius. And Remus didn't say a thing…and my mother seemed to hate him." He shook his head.

"If someone had told me that story, I would've thought the roles had been reversed, that you were the one who'd attacked my father, not the opposite. I'm sorry…I mean, for that too," he apologized. It was going from bad to worse.

But when the Man in Black abandoned his cauldron and came to sit opposite Harry, he no longer seemed angry. Instead, he was thoughtful and intrigued.

"And what did your friends think?" he asked casually.

This time, it was Harry who shot him a reproachful look. "I didn't tell them anything! No one. I didn't want them to know…about you or my father. I only talked to Sirius about it. I needed to know, you understand."

"Might I know what the mutt had to say?"

Harry sighed again. "Please…I know what he did, but he'd dead now, so…."

Snape made a move of his hand that strangely resembled a gesture of apology.

"Anyway, Sirius said they were imbeciles. That they were fifteen and that everyone is stupid at fifteen. I don't think that's true, but in a sense, it's hard to imagine my parents, and even Sirius and Remus, at fifteen."

They were silent for a long moment.

"That's correct," Snape finally said. "It's hard to imagine that we all were fifteen. And even harder still that we eventually changed."

Harry gave him a questioning look.

"I suppose it's time to leave certain things where they belong, twenty years in the past," the professor concluded.

But the boy's mind seemed only partially put to rest.

Because that didn't change the most important thing, after all. His father had probably been nothing like the idea Harry had of him. But yes, in a way, Snape was right. How important was it now, when he was dead, and at any rate would never be a part of Harry's life?

He finished his plate in silence, with his professor looking on.

"Have some fruit," Snape ordered him, pointing to the basket in the center of the table.

"Thanks," murmured the boy. "I'm really not hungry anymore."

The Potions master seemed about to say something in reply, then changed his mind.

"Very well. No more Animagus transformations today, so your arm has time to heal. You could perhaps make some headway with your homework…or assist me," he added when he saw the face the boy made.

Harry seemed all of a sudden oddly enthusiastic at the idea of brewing potions. That was a first.

"Read me this paragraph while I finish chopping these roots. Don't jump a line or miss a word."

Once again in pain, Snape raised his had to his arm. The Mark burned… not to summon him to the Dark Lord, but to remind him that he could be at any moment, and that the potions had better be ready when he was.

Oh, they would be. No negligence, ever again…no more torture again either. Not like the last time. If he had to submit to that treatment a second time, he wasn't certain he'd manage to keep his mental barriers intact until the end. And if he allowed but a single gap, then Harry would be in grave danger.

And Snape would die for certain. Not that it mattered that much from then on, but he had to finish what he'd started.

He listened to Harry reading the paragraph to him, his voice calm and clear. The boy was full of good will…and willingness, full stop. Enough to follow his destiny to the very end, if he were given the chance.

But he wasn't so sure that from here on out Voldemort would be the boy's chief problem. If no one was vigilant, he'd be in considerable danger of breaking down alone, a victim of his own anxiety.

Snape shook his head. Dumbledore was an old fool. He was too obsessed with _his_ war to notice that his hero was on the verge of losing his own war….

"Go and get me two griffin feathers from the cupboard, first shelf, third jar on the right. That's it. Cut off the tuft and throw it in the cauldron. Perfect."

Perfect? It had to be the first time Snape had admitted that a Gryffindor could do something correctly, Harry decided. When Snape wasn't shouting, brewing a potion was almost pleasant, especially since he couldn't take points or give him detention…or could he?

Whatever the case, the Manor dungeon was much more pleasant than the one at Hogwarts.

For the first time in his life, Harry wasn't in such a hurry to return to the castle. He'd miss the peaceful ambiance of the laboratory, and Snape as well…his Snape.

Harry was apprehensive about seeing his professor take up his hated role of tyrant again. To have himself called out and insulted again, after all that'd happened. He really didn't want to think about it. He'd have plenty of time to bite his fingernails over his attitude later on.

"Professor," he asked after two hours of peaceable stirring, reading and cutting, "if it doesn't bother you, could I start to make supper?"

"Excellent idea. You'll find all you need in the kitchen. The menu is up to you."

Harry nodded, and with a happy smile, headed for the kitchen. It was now or never to impress the professor.

He quickly rummaged in the cupboards to come up with an idea. Something he'd never eaten at Hogwarts…that the Dursleys had served to their guests… What had he cooked the last time Uncle Vernon had given a party?

A stupid paella. Nothing very brilliant…. But that would do the trick!

The boy set rapidly to work, looking for ingredients and utensils. Nothing was missing…except for an oven. How in the devil was he….

Oh. The fireplace. Okay, he could make do with that. Wizards probably used spells to fix all that, but he wasn't afraid of the challenge. He'd pull a paella out of this cauldron, even it he had to use pure Dark Magic spells to do it.

An hour later, Harry was contemplating the worship of gas stoves and microwave ovens, but the table was set, and a steaming, appetizing dish was waiting when Snape finally appeared, obviously curious about the result.

"Well, I see wizarding cooking has no secrets from you. Should I be thanking Mrs Weasley?" he asked with a slight smile.

"I would've liked her help," the boy grumbled. "It's a good old-fashioned Muggle meal. I I'm sorry to say electric ovens are something wizards ought to discover right away."

Snape laughed softly. "_Victus Cocere_ is a good spell for basic cooking. Adaptable to the dish…."

Harry sighed. "I'll try to remember that."

The two of them took their seats at the table, and Harry did the serving honors, worrying over the professor's verdict.

A few mouthfuls later, his wait was finally over.

"I have to say that given your Potions' marks, I'd've never suspected your ability to cook, Potter. You've gone up in my esteem. I'm almost sorry about the anti-poison potion I took just before coming up."

Relieved, the boy smiled. "So change that to a digestive potion. I was a bit heavy-handed on the quantity…."

"All the better. I won't have to beg for more tomorrow at lunch."

It was probably the greatest compliment that the professor had ever given him, and Harry couldn't help but feel proud.

Snape must've noticed, because his slight smile, which he'd only begun to wear recently, returned instantly. "You've just earned the right to cook more often than when it's your turn. If this first attempt isn't a happy coincidence, I could go so far as to reconsider the results of your recent exams."

Harry's eyes widened. Was he serious? He really needed to continue with Potions if he wanted to become an Auror.

"Yes, sir!" Without daring to add anything, out of fear he'd change his mind, Harry returned to his plate. If he'd known, he'd've made dessert as well!

Snape smiled to himself as he saw the hopeful twinkle in Harry's eyes. The boy was an open book, and an excellent cook, by the way. Evidently with a great deal of practice under his belt. Certainly another legacy of his childhood at the Dursleys'.

But for now, he certainly wasn't going to blame them.

If only the sharp, shooting pain in his Mark had stopped, the day would've almost been pleasant.

He sighed.

"Harry, I must finish potions tonight. I'll be downstairs if you need something. You have free rein this evening, provided you stay in the Manor and don't put a strain on your arm. There are some books in the library that might interest you…. Your meal was excellent. Thank you."

The boy hesitated for an instant. "Thank _you_. Would it bother you if I read down there? I promise not to disturb you. I can help you if you like."

Snape hesitated for a moment. No, he shouldn't let the boy get attached…but he preferred keep an eye on him. One never knew what could happen.

"Very well. Go find a book and meet me down there."

The boy smiled gratefully. "Thanks!" he said as he hurried off for the library.

The Potions master turned to head for his laboratory, slightly perturbed. That hadn't gone as he'd wanted it to.

The boy was so used to being pushed away that he hardly paid attention, and on the contrary, considered the slightest sign of attention as a favor. In these circumstances, how was he supposed to maintain his role as the cold and distant professor? It was pitiful.

And the pain in his arm was making him nervous. The Dark Lord was frustrated and agitated, he was sure of it. Had he sensed something? Was he trying to break through to the boy's mind? The potions he'd made Harry drink seemed to be working.

He had to keep an eye on the boy at all times…this equilibrium was much too fragile, Harry much too unstable….

Snape ground his teeth. Let Dumbledore hurry and find a solution. And let this bloody affair be wrapped up as soon as possible and be done with.

In the evening of an almost perfect day, he couldn't help but feel the shadows close in around the Manor. And they weren't there to hide them from Voldemort's eyes.

A few minutes later, as he checked the cauldrons, he heard the boy slip soundlessly into the laboratory, careful not to disturb him. He curled up peacefully in his armchair, and opened the book. Snape almost expected to hear him purr….

He was rapidly becoming as accustomed to the boy's presence as he was to the cat's. It was best that he concentrate on the idea of the cat. The Dark Lord wouldn't be long in calling him. The burning in his Mark had intensified as the day had gone by; he'd have to talk to Albus about it.

But did Dumbledore have the slightest idea of how to proceed? He'd sent Harry to the Manor, knowing full well what a risk that was for the boy, as well as for Snape.

Did he know what he was doing? Was he content to trust him? Did he realize how upset Harry was by all of this?

But for now, Harry was dozing off in front of the fireplace, just like any other boy on holiday, without a care in the world.

Yes, this day hadn't been a bad one. Something told him that they'd done well to make good use of it, and his spy's instincts rarely let him down.

He kept an eye on the boy as he worked. It didn't take long for the book to finally fall to his lap, and his head to the arm of the chair.

The Cat Who Wasn't One had fallen peacefully to sleep.

As Snape had feared, this tranquil sleep didn't last long. The boy hadn't been asleep a half-hour before Snape heard him moan as he dreamed.

Worried, Snape went to him: his facial features contorted, his fists hands balled into fists, and he seemed to be suffering, but probably not physically. The professor hesitated; should he wake him?

"Sirius…no…."

Black. So that was it.

Snape sighed. The dream had probably not been sent by Voldemort. Without making any noise, the man sat on the arm of the chair and lightly placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Everything's fine, Harry. You're safe."

It was the truth, after all. At that exact moment, everything was still all right.

The moaning stopped, but the boy's face remained tense.

"There, there, Harry, for tonight, all will be well. Go back to sleep."

All of the sudden, Snape caught himself checking the Manor wards. No, no one had tried to breach them. And no one had heard him…. Merlin, was he still a fifteen-year-old, afraid that his little friends would make fun of him in front of the class?

They could go to hell, he didn't give a damn. As long as Harry calmed down, let the entire Order of the Phoenix wear their little knowing smiles if they wanted.

Running a hand through his hair, he felt the boy relax, little by little, even as his own body began to relax.

What if Lily had lived? If he'd not said that word…if he'd not joined the Death Eaters….

This black-haired boy would've been slightly different, but perhaps not all that much, after all?

Snape would've stayed awake at night to rock him when was a baby. He would've applauded his first steps, and he would've taught him how to fly a broom.

He would've never allowed him to lack for food or affection.

Lily would've never left him to cry alone. She would've laughed at his nonsense, and she would've tucked him in each night.

They would've both gone with him to platform nine and three-quarters, and they would've waved to him as he left, pretending they weren't sad.

There would've never been a question of beatings with a belt, nor of a cupboard. No threat of death or of basilisks.

He would've been Harry Snape, and he would've been happy. Snape would've made sure of it.

But for now, there was only a Severus Snape and a Harry Potter—whose life expectancy was the subject of wagering in Diagon Alley—and their existence was summed up by doing their best to save the world with what they had.

And Lily slept in her tomb at Godric's Hollow.

Even so, Lily had left it, it appeared, in time to grace her son with a new ability, and to entrust him to her former childhood friend.

It was only a little cat. It was but a boy.

Perhaps, if they survived this vacation, all would not be lost.

The boy's breathing was even and regular for now, his face calm.

"Try to have good dreams, Harry. I'm here…."

He quietly left the armchair, leaving the boy to sleep.

The potions risked keeping him up at night…all the better. He'd make sure Harry didn't suffer through another nightmare, that he not be left alone for a single moment to face them. Perhaps he'd eventually not have them anymore? It was still his best protection against Voldemort.

When daylight broke through the basement window, he'd comforted the boy two more times, and the potions were ready. He was finally going to be able to sleep….

But first, the sunrise.

Without making a sound, he took the stairs, which a few weeks earlier had led him to a black cat trembling in front of his door.

That morning seemed so far away now…but this morning was hazy too, and the Mark on his arm had never stopped burning.

The sun finally came up, pale and indistinct…disappointing.

Very well, he thought, so much for going to sleep. Downstairs, the boy hadn't budged, and seemed to be sleeping soundly now. With a quick spell, Snape made sure he wouldn't wake up, then bent down to lift him up. He could've pushed him to transform into a cat again…but after all, he still wasn't so old, nor the boy so heavy, that he'd not be able to carry him like that!

Harry probably wouldn't like what he'd done, but that truly made no difference to them now!

The Potions master laid the boy in his bed, adjusted the covers and ended with a charm that would warn him if Harry had another nightmare.

Somewhat reassured, he verified one last time that the wards around the Manor were strong and intact, then retired to his own room.

All would be well. He would've liked for someone to reassure him that all would be well. But whatever the shadows pressing in upon the Manor, the Potions master fell asleep when his head had scarcely hit the pillow.

And for the last time in a long time to come, Severus Snape slept the sleep of the just, confidant of having done his best.

oooOOOooo

The first question that occurred to Harry that morning wasn't to know where he was, but how he'd managed to get there.

He recalled having chosen a book from Snape's library, rather randomly, really, something on the history of magic in Ireland. Then he'd gone down to the laboratory, had settled himself in front of the fireplace and had probably fallen asleep. When had he gone back up to his room, and how the blazes could he be here, tucked in his bed?

He opened the curtains he'd not pulled shut the night before.

The sun was already high in the sky, so it must be mid-morning. Snape was surely awake.

Snape.

Who besides the professor could've got him back up to his room? He seemed to remember having heard his voice through his dreams, having felt his presence.

But he'd not had nightmares last night, not really. He'd dreamt of his parents. He was almost certain of it…

Could Snape be right, had he inherited his new ability from them? He'd clearly seen his mother's face that night, and she'd been worried. She'd repeated over and over for him to be a good cat…. A cat. His father had transformed over and over into a stag, his eyes riveted to Harry's, as if showing him how to do it.

He'd wanted to tell them that he knew already, that Snape had explained to him, but he couldn't talk, the fog was so thick and he couldn't speak a word.

And Sirius…he'd seen him as well, later. Or earlier? In his dog form, he barked furiously and refused to listen to Harry's excuses. He wanted at all costs to show him something, to take him somewhere…but Harry didn't understand.

These dreams were truly bizarre, suffused with fog, in what seemed to be the park….

Harrry shivered.

If Snape was awake, he'd find him in the dungeon, and he could tell him about these dreams. Maybe they had something to do with what was happening to him?

He groped for his glasses, and his hand bumped against two bottles standing on his bedside table. The same ones Snape was making him drink three times a day. He swallowed them down quickly, and felt his mind clear, as the dreams faded.

Only dreams, after all. Surely. But all the same….

He slipped to the stairway, pricking up his ears to listen for the familiar sounds.

But all was silent, and his light knocks on the wooden door echoed in the emptiness. No answer. Intrigued, he decided not to pursue it. What time had Snape gone to bed? Had he stayed and slept in his armchair?

He stopped for a moment at the door to Snape's room, listening for the sound of breathing. He heard nothing, but he sensed the man's presence behind the door.

No reason to disturb him over dreams that Voldemort had surely not sent. It was a good chance for him to fix breakfast!

Harry'd hardly had time to finish setting the table when the Potions professor appeared, sufficiently awake that it seemed as if he'd been up for hours. The boy smiled; could it be that Snape was in a foul mood on awakening, if only for five little minutes, his eyes blurry and his hair unruly, without his mask of uncompromising professor?

No, probably not. Snape was a sort of robot that surely slept with his wand in his hand, laid out on his bed like an 'I'!

"Hullo, Professor!" he said as he handed him a plate of hot pancakes.

"Already at the stove?" he replied as he took hold of the dish. "Did you find the potions I left on the bedside table?"

"Yes, thanks. I'm sorry, I think I fell asleep, um, downstairs last night."

Snape waved with a hand as he took a mouthful of pancake.

"Let's go over your programme for the day. You must work on your transformations, and we'll go to the park to start. I also want you to get ready for the start of term; there's only a week and a half left. If we have time, we'll start in on Occlumency lessons again this evening. Until then, I'd like you to practice a few meditation exercises. Any comments?"

Harry grimaced as he served the tea. "No, sir. Outside of the fact that I've never done meditation."

"That won't be a problem. I'll give you some instructions, and you'll go practice in the park, in the same place as the other day. You can consider the clearing as your training place, in general."

The boy nodded thoughtfully. His training place? Snape had got it ready for him? He'd probably know soon enough.

"And Harry, if you like, you must not hesitate to take the Dreamless Sleep. That could only help for you to concentrate during the day."

The dreams of last night came back to him. Should he talk to the professor about them? That had been his first inclination, but what to say to him…that his mother wanted him to transform into a cat, that his father transformed over and over, and that Sirius was barking in the park? No, it was ridiculous….

But he didn't want to get rid of these dreams either. They'd seemed so real! He didn't remember having dreamt of his parents so clearly beforehand. Usually they were just vague shapes that gestured to him from far away….

He shook his head. "No, thanks. I prefer…I'm used to…" he finished.

Snape seemed annoyed, but let the matter go.

"Very well, go take a shower, and then join me in the laboratory in a half-hour. Brush your teeth."

Harry grumbled. "Yeah, I know, sardines…."

And as he got up to go to his room, he found himself exchanging a knowing look with the professor.

A few meters farther away, a black cat meowed in frustration; no, really, it was irritating to no longer have control over his own body. He had to quickly do something about it; if something like this ever happened to him during a Quidditch match. Merlin, he'd die of shame!

He galloped toward his room, defusing his frustration with feline leaps. Arriving at the door to his room, he focused: Quidditch, flying…success!

It wasn't so hard, after all, he just had to avoid thinking of Snape as someone…nice? Reassuring? If the professor came to suspect that he found him 'nice', he could be sure of cleaning cauldrons for the next two years.

And yet. Had Snape really tucked him in? If Ron were to know that, Harry would never sleep peacefully in Gryffindor Tower again.

But Ron wouldn't find out a thing. This was _his_ Snape, and it was good that way. The Snape at Hogwarts…would be what he would be.

While the steam filled the bathroom, Harry began to think of his dreams again. The fog that shrouded them made the terrain confusing, but he was convinced as he thought of them again that it was the clearing where Snape had taken him.

Was this his subconscious at work? He'd talk to Hermione about it; she'd surely have an answer. After all, wasn't it his bracelet that'd led him here?

He dried off quickly before returning to the dungeon. Snape seemed to intend to make him work hard, and he really wanted to prove to him that he was worthy of another chance. If he could ever bring his Potions marks back up, that would change everything!

Surviving this summer would already be a good start, come to think of it. Whatever happened, it would most certainly be his strangest summer up until now.

The dungeons were very busy this time, filled with their usual activity. Harry smiled…he had to train, right?

Without a sound, he changed into the cat and quietly approached the Potions master.

Taking advantage of a moment when the professor had his hands empty, he leapt agilely to his shoulder, making him startle.

Snape closed his eyes for a second, before seizing him by the skin of his neck.

"On my life, I've never seen such a fleabag! You think you're funny, Potter? If I'd not heard you come back, you'd already have a broken neck and be roasting slowly in the fireplace! Does the idea still seem so entertaining?"

He put the cat on the floor and Harry hastily retook his human form, sheepish.

"Sorry…it was just to show you…" he stammered.

"That you know how to act like a circus animal? I never doubted it, Potter! And I'm still more than convinced that you should be boarding in a circus school and not at Hogwarts. You should show Dumbledore that little trick, you'd be doing me a favor," replied the Potions master icily.

Harry swallowed with difficulty. So much for joking. He wasn't there to have fun. Definitely not, given the professor's irritated expression.

"But since you're sure of your momentum, let's see how many times it'll take you to execute three back-and-forths. Now!"

The boy took a step backward, and focused.

One time. Two times. Three times. Four…five…

The cat fell heavily onto its posterior, gasping for breath. He felt as if he'd played a Quidditch match with at least four Bludgers in play…

"That's all?" Snape asked, watching him with his arms crossed.

The cat shot him a murderous look. Let the professor amuse himself by transforming into a bat five times and they'd talk about it…though he doubted that transformation would take much effort!

"Very well, it's perhaps time to move on to another lesson. In the park."

Harry got up, wobbling a bit on his legs, then headed for the stairway.

Before he was able to reach them, he felt a hand lift him and then found himself in the professor's arms as he was already on the steps.

"Senseless to put too much of a strain on this broken paw. Nothing worse than steps," he justified himself.

The cat perked up its ears. Was Snape suddenly feeling remorse?

Outside, the fog valiantly resisted the morning. Harry quivered; when it was like this, the place seemed so much like his dream.

All of a sudden, he sensed that his mother would've been relieved to see him in this form, and he himself felt strangely more confident: he was faster, smaller and more agile.

Snape set him on the ground and gestured for him to follow. "We're going to make use of your cat form to test your performance. I'd like you to jump up on the stone wall."

The wall in question was narrow, and to balance himself there wasn't easy, but the cat managed to make it after a moment's hesitation. Snape nodded approvingly. "To the first tree branch now."

Curiously, Harry had no trouble climbing into the tree like a cat, all of his claws out. His instincts were amazing even to himself!

On the other hand, the branch seemed much higher, seen from atop it.

He shot Snape a questioning look.

"Come down the same way, using the trunk, it'll be safer."

Him, who already hated going down stairs. He'd barely lowered his head and stretched out a tentative paw, when he changed his mind. Still better to jump, it'd be quicker.

Snape saw him crouch in order to jump, and stopped him with a gesture. "No! No jumping with your broken paw!"

Harry relaxed his muscles and cast him a mocking look. If he had to spend the day in the tree, a lot of good it'd do him!

"Must I call for help, Harry?"

His professor's taunting expression gave him the sudden whim to use the man as his landing point, but he had to take care if he wanted to see his Potions mark go up. His performance of a while ago hadn't been overly appreciated.

"_Wingardium Leviosa."_

A moment later, the cat gently touched down on the ground.

"Very well, since your reflexes seem more like those of a lap-cat than a lion. Let's see what you have in the way of hunting instincts."

Murmuring a spell, the professor made a small, glowing, lively ball appear, which moved quickly to hiss under the cat's nose. His paw shot out into the air, narrowly missing the ball. All his energy suddenly restored, he was off on the chase, moving in leaps and spins, tapping the ball often without managing to capture it.

Finally, trapping it with his two paws, he succeeded in pinning it to the ground, and the ball disappeared.

"One hundred-fifty points to Gryffindor. Perfect, I see that this part won't present a problem," Snape said ironically.

The cat blinked. Being a cat didn't mean he was about to let the Golden Snitch get away!

The exercises continued, testing the agility and speed of the cat, forcing him to use all the abilities of his form. As lithe and agile as he was, it wasn't, however, always easy to coordinate paws, tail and head.

The morning passed quickly, with the professor seeming satisfied with his progress, dispensing advice and sometimes encouragement that never failed to surprise Harry.

"Very well, it's time to return to fix lunch," the professor finally said. "You can resume your normal form."

Harry didn't have to be told twice; he needed to talk. "Professor, how long do you think I'll be able to keep my new abilities secret?"

"Not much longer than these holidays, I'm afraid. I unfortunately don't think you'll be able to completely control the transformations. There'll come a time when things get away from you and you'll change in spite of yourself. In a castle full of students, I doubt that'll go unnoticed."

"But isn't there a way to block the transformations? A potion, a spell..?" the boy asked.

"That wouldn't be desirable. There's actually a potion that hinders the Animagus effects, but it's only temporary, and can't be taken on a permanent basis. You'll probably end up using it shortly, at the Ministry."

Harry frowned. "For the Dursleys. You…you really think they made a deal with Voldemort, don't you?" he asked hesitantly.

Snape turned to him and looked him directly in the eyes. "Yes, I'm certain of it. Whether the Dark Lord offered them money or something else, I think he indeed made a proposition to your family and they accepted it. They didn't seem very eager to see you come back when I visited them."

"No, I suspected as much," murmured the boy. "I still didn't think…doesn't matter. The protection from my mother definitely fell, didn't it? It won't come back, even if they want to take me?"

Severus clenched his teeth. "No, Harry. Their feelings for you have betrayed the blood link. It's definitely fallen."

"I see. Will I…will I really have to see them again, at the Ministry?" His voice was almost begging.

"I'm afraid so," Snape replied calmly. "Professor Dumbledore will do all that he can to avoid this confrontation, but it mustn't be forgotten that numerous Ministry officials are controlled by the Dark Lord. Whatever the case, be assured that they'll not be able to do you any harm. Albus would never allow it."

Harry didn't answer, but nodded.

Finally, he asked, "Will you be there as well?"

The professor took a long while before he answered. "If you like, yes, I'll go along with you."

The boy felt a weight leave him. Small, but significant. Snape would know what to tell him to do when the appointed time came. He wouldn't have to prove that he was able to manage on his own. He truly didn't think he had the courage to do it.

"Thanks."

Snape nodded.

"Do you think that my aunt…" the boy abruptly said, then sighed. "No, forget it. It's not important."

"That your aunt what?" the professor insisted.

"That's she in on it too…or is it just Uncle Vernon?" Harry finished reluctantly.

Severus mulled over his answer for a moment. "Harry, I don't think your aunt was dragged into this affair against her will. She didn't strike me as the type of person to go along unwillingly. I've good reason to believe that it was she whom the Dark Lord contacted first."

Harry abruptly lifted his head to stare at him. For an instant, Snape thought he was about to say something, but his face dropped and he started at his shoes.

"I'm sorry," said the professor.

"Uncle Vernon hated me, that's all right. But I thought that even if she didn't love me, since she'd known my mother…. I guess that doesn't mean anything. Family's what one makes of it, after all."

The bitterness and resignation in his voice surprised Snape. What had become of the boy who shrugged off all criticism? So…Snape had been wrong on another point.

This trial should be neither slapdash nor hasty. The boy still realized only half of what'd happened to him.

"The family they offered you wasn't one, Harry. You only have to look at the Weasley family to realize that."

"What'll happen to them if they don't manage to get Voldemort what he asked them to? Will they be in danger?"

Snape grumbled. "I do not see why you should concern yourself with that. But to answer you, it's likely that he won't do anything to them, as long as they pose a potential threat for you."

Harry felt his stomach knot. How utterly nasty his life was!

"But Harry, you can be certain that we will not let anything happen to you. In any event." The professor's voice was gentle and reassuring as he looked Harry in the eyes.

The boy held his gaze for a long moment, and Snape could see all the doubt, all the pain and insecurity that the teenager was struggling to face. And also the remains of hope, and the desire to believe in something…in someone.

But wasn't it too late?

Harry severed the connection with a nod of his head. "Thanks for everything. I know you hate me, you too, and in a way, it's reassuring to know that despite that, you don't plan to hand me over to Voldemort. Or kill me. Or I don't know, take points," Harry said with a grimace, trying to make his declaration less pathetic.

"No," replied the professor.

"Oh, well, thanks," said the boy, a bit upset now.

"No. I don't plan to hand you over to the Dark Lord, and no, I don't hate you," he said in a harder voice. How was he supposed to handle this?

"I know, I mean, you don't like me, or, I don't know…doesn't matter. Thanks all the same."

Snape groaned and fidgeted for a moment; he had to do it—if the boy had to trust him, he didn't want him to see him as another Vernon, and by Merlin, Harry would certainly need to trust him if he wanted to stay alive until the start of term.

He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder to force him to turn and face him. He had no intention of allowing this little speech to be interrupted.

Harry looked up at him, surprised.

"Harry, listen to me well. You are not here because I was forced to take you. Certain of my opinions about you since you arrived at Hogwarts have proved to be decidedly false, and, it seems, very far from the truth. Sometimes, wounds from the past don't allow us to see things the way they really are…or to at least give them a chance. It's a mistake that I regret, one that is no longer in play. You are neither your father, nor your mother, nor that spoiled little boy, proud and insolent, that you would've been if everything had been as I'd imagined it. You, what you are…there's nothing there I could hate. I regret not having understood it before."

The boy's expression, mouth hanging open, eyes wide, was in the end wholly worth the cost to his pride of having said his mea culpa in front of James Potter's son.

When he could finally get a word out, the boy was unable to find a thing to say that would truly express what he was thinking. At that instant, he was absolutely incapable of rational thought.

"Th…thanks," he managed to stammer.

"Your favorite word, it would seem. There is no need to thank me. Rather the opposite, it seems to me… Now, time to cook."

By all appearances, the boy had been shocked by Snape's confession, so it was best to occupy his mind before he began to think too much of the implications.

"Oh, and one last thing. If you really need to jump to my shoulders in your cat form, for one reason or another, think about making it the left one. I'm right-handed," he said casually as he flicked his wand.

Without really knowing why, the idea made Harry burst into laughter. Snape smiled at him, and time, which had seemed to stop, suddenly took up again.

But bizarrely, the seconds no longer seemed to tumble together.

A few moments later, Harry had found his usual sprit and voice again, as Snape gave him a demonstration of wizarding cooking. The spells were truly incredible, and he was going to save an obscene amount of time. He was going to be able to launch himself into more complicated recipes and really impress the Potions master.

He truly intended on bringing up his Potions mark, and all the while make the professor gain a bit of weight; Harry wasn't the only one here who needed to eat better.

The meal was appreciated by both parties, and even Snape's interrogation on his homework didn't manage to spoil the boy's good mood. Not only did the professor prepare a full schedule for him for that afternoon, but his knowledge of the programmes also allowed him to tell Harry which chapters to begin to study, to best prepare him for the start of term.

Afterwards, sated, they opted for a break to digest their food, in the shelter of the dungeon, before returning to work. Each seated in his armchair, with a book in hand, they seemed lost in their thoughts.

Was this holiday truce going to last?

Would the boy succeed in regaining his trust in him before the start of term?

Would Occlumency lessons work this time?

An hour passed tranquilly. With a sigh, Snape closed his book. "To work. Go and get your books and set yourself up where you like. The library is well-lit at this time of day." But as he'd expected, the boy looked at him pleadingly.

"I can stay here?"

"_May_ I stay here."

"May I stay here, please, Professor?" Harry asked again in his politest tone of voice.

Snape nodded, refusing to admit his satisfaction. "Very well. Go get what you need and try to concentrate. Don't hesitate to ask if you have questions."

The boy smiled and took off at a run up the staircase. He was at least halfway up the steps when he suddenly found himself on four paws, smaller and his vision sharper.

Okay, okay, Snape was right, he was going to need a great deal of training and concentration, as well as not thinking of Snape like a nice uncle who'd indulge all his little whims. Uncles weren't nice, that was a proven fact.

The afternoon passed peacefully, and Harry was surprised to find that it really was much easier to concentrate here, in the dungeon, than in Hogwarts library. Maybe because he didn't have Ron at his side to talk to about Quidditch, or Hermione to correct him at every turn. Snape himself took the time to explain the points on which Harry had doubts, but refused to give him the answers.

When the sunlight started to fade, Harry let out a satisfied sigh. Half of his holiday homework was done.

As for Snape, he'd not once left his work table. The potions he was preparing seemed particularly complicated to Harry, but the professor hadn't stopped for a second. Outside of a few questions the boy'd asked him, the only thing that seemed to exist at that moment were the potions being brewed and the Mark on his arm.

Harry couldn't help but notice that the professor rubbed it more and more often, without seeming to pay attention to it. If the tension in his face and hand were anything to go by, it had to still be hurting him….

"Finished, Harry?" he asked, when he saw the boy had closed his books.

The teenager nodded. "I've made progress on half my homework. This'll be the very first time I'll be handing them in finished the right way," he said with a grimace. The Potions professor was in a position to know that!

But Snape smiled slightly. "Leave them on the table, I'll check them over later."

"Check them?" Harry spluttered.

"Certainly, Mister Potter. The entire faculty at Hogwarts will know all too soon that you've spent a part of your summer here. Out of the question for you to hand in bad homework written under my watch."

The boy frowned. "No one ever checks my homework, if that'll make you feel better. I don't think anyone would imagine you were going to correct what I write!"

"Well, they're wrong," Snape concluded firmly and decisively. "For now, I suggest you go take a turn in the park. Stay within sight of the Manor, on the path that goes around the house. When you're feeling more rested, you'll be able to go to the clearing where you trained this morning, to practice the relaxation exercises I told you about."

"All right," Harry said, thinking that a few turns around the Manor would probably be necessary after Snape's revelation about his homework. "What exactly does that consist of?"

"Nothing very elaborate, I assure you. For this time, simply seat yourself comfortably, close your eyes, and take deep breaths. Focus on your breathing and try to empty your mind, and relax your body."

"Hmmm. If I don't fall asleep first, I think I should be able to manage that."

"Good. Come back in an hour, two if you need it. Take your time, but do all that you can to think of nothing. I've already seen you do it in Potions class, so it shouldn't give you major problems."

With that last cutting remark, Harry rolled his eyes and left, exchanging a slight smile with Snape, who'd not let go of his bottles.

If only the professor would wear that reassuring smile in class, his sarcasm wouldn't be so disagreeable.

Relaxing and letting his mind empty weren't as difficult as he'd first thought. Of course, there was Voldemort, the Dursleys, the Ministry….

But there was also the sun, the park, and the dreams he'd had the night before. His mother and father had seemed real, close to him, and Sirius, even though he'd barked, hadn't seemed angry with him. It'd been the first time Sirius hadn't come to reproach Harry for his death.

But still….

At last, satisfied with his relaxation session, he decided to go back to the dungeon earlier than expected. Snape would probably be happy to save some time….

Assuming his cat form, he backtracked to the dungeon. The door was closed, but before he had time to take his human form, a familiar voice escaped through the half-open window, making him stop in his tracks.

Dumbledore was there, downstairs, with Snape, and the conversation seemed agitated.

"It's out of the question! He's not ready!" hissed Snape's voice.

"My boy, be reasonable. He'll never be ready for this," replied the conciliatory voice of Dumbledore.

"You don't understand. Harry must face many things: his childhood, the betrayal of his family, his new abilities…he's bewildered and that's very understandable. He needs a bit of time to get himself together before having to face all of that!"

"Ideally, that would be the case. But the sooner we dispense with this trial, the sooner Harry will be in relative safety."

"He has nightmares every night, Albus! He refuses to let it show, but he's terrified at the prospect of seeing his family again!"

"Severus, your worry is to your credit, but Harry's nightmares are not a recent thing. He's had them regularly for years."

"And that didn't bother you unduly? What are you thinking, then, to throw your hero in the lion's den when he doesn't have the strength to overcome his own traumas? Albus, this isn't like you."

Snape's voice was impassioned, and Harry stood, frozen to the spot.

Dumbledore appeared to have a reaction similar to Harry's. "I see that dealing with Harry has fortunately made you change your opinion concerning him," he said gently.

Snape grumbled, "My opinion is of no importance; anyone would see that this boy needs much more than the minimal safety that you offer him. He needs time and support to get back on his feet. I won't let you throw him unprepared into one of these ambushes organized under the control of the Dark Lord! He's a brave boy, and he's doing his best to make a good impression and not disappoint those who believe in him, but he's just a sixteen year old teenager who never had a childhood, Albus. You entrusted me with his care for the remainder of the holidays, so trust me to the end!" Severus almost begged.

"I don't have a choice. The hearing is set for tomorrow. And that's the final date before the Ministry undertakes sterner measures. I'll come to collect Harry tomorrow morning."

Harry heard Snape pacing in the laboratory, obviously furious. "I'll go with him. He'll take an Anti-Animagus potion to avoid transforming during the course of the trial. And whether you like it or not, Albus, Harry will be returning with me to the Manor at the end of the hearing. It's out of the question that he spend the night anywhere else, even more so in that place!"

"I'm finding you all of the sudden very protective of the boy, Severus. Not that I reproach you for that," Dumbledore said softly.

"Someone has to protect him," said the professor sharply. "You're determined to consider him an adult, responsible and able to face his fate alone. You're wrong. And if no one's able to see him as he really is, to recognize a teenager who's full of self-doubts and who's struggling to hide the little, traumatized boy, then yes, I'll do it. Whatever the cost."

"I understand," Dumbledore murmured, "probably not as well as you, I'm well aware. But I understand what you mean. I don't intend to take Harry away from you for the rest of the summer; indeed, he seems to be doing completely fine here. You have my complete trust, Severus, as always."

"And yet, you don't want to have the date of the hearing changed," Snape said between his teeth.

"No. I have my reasons, my boy…and they're as valid as your own. I will come for Harry tomorrow, then. Trust me…one more time," said Dumbledore gently.

Snape nodded reluctantly. A moment later, Harry heard Dumbledore announce the location of his office at Hogwarts, and the voices fell silent. Cautiously, he drew near to the window, and could see Snape sitting in his armchair, legs crossed, chin resting in his hand as he darkly watched the flames, obviously upset.

Harry pulled away.

He knew, since Snape had told him, that the professor no longer hated him. He'd also understood that the man seemed determined to take care of him, since he'd gone so far as to tuck him into bed, something no one had ever done before him.

But what he'd said to Dumbledore…. The boy decided that he finally needed a bit more time to empty his mind.

He returned soundlessly to the clearing, where he retook his human form.

Snape…the Potions professor who'd always been the first to make him feel miserable, who never missed an opportunity to throw his pampered existence in his face….

Who'd saved him more than once at Hogwarts.

And who now was accusing Dumbledore of not seeing him for who he was, and who'd asked for Harry to have more time to pull himself together, who spoke of him as a courageous boy…

Who stood up to Dumbledore for him. Who wanted to protect him.

And without having been ordered to do it….

Harry knew that Snape was right, that he should've been worried about the trial the next day, but he cared nothing about it just now. Someone wanted to take care of him. Someone defended him. Someone didn't see in him just his role in the war.

And for the first time since Sirius' death, Harry suddenly felt happy. Truly happy. Even if tomorrow Voldemort should finally capture him, if Vernon beat him again, if he were to find himself shut up in a cupboard…. Well, someone would be worried about him. Him. Not the war. Him.

An hour later, he headed at last for the dungeons, in good spirits. He found Snape there, just as he'd left him a few hours earlier, leaning over a cauldron, as if Dumbledore had never come.

Was he even going to talk to him about it? Probably not before the Occlumency session; he'd probably think that the news would upset him too much. He wasn't wrong, basically.

"Professor?"

"Harry. Did you succeed in doing what I asked of you?" His voice was perfectly calm and even. The boy couldn't help but feel a certain admiration for the professor. Without a doubt, his role as a spy suited him wonderfully.

"I think so."

"Very good. Go sit in your armchair."

A moment later, Snape came and sat opposite him.

"I want you to focus on emptying your mind while I reach out for one of your thoughts. You must make it disappear before I have time to take hold of it. Ready?"

Harry nodded.

"_Legilimens!"_

A moment later, Harry found himself at the Dursleys'. He was eight years old, he'd just finished scrubbing the kitchen floor, and Dudley and his friends were coming in with their muddy shoes…an instant after, Petunia was shouting at him for his shoddy work. He groaned…too late to avoid that one.

Snape moved on to the next memory. Dudley and the Dementors. Quickly, Harry imagined the image going up in smoke, and to his great surprise, he felt the thought escape the professor. So that was it!

Right away, he sensed the Potions master's approval.

But already, the man was searching Harry's mind for another memory…then another…. Harry successfully countered his attack twice, but three scenes got away from him.

Snape didn't let up, taking memories randomly, insensitive to the boy's growing fatigue. Harry tried to reinforce his defenses. He was safe, everything was fine, this was Snape. Snape who'd said he'd protect him… At the moment, even, when the thought brushed over him, Harry understood his mistake.

Snape took hold of the memory that just crossed through his mind, and Harry, panicked, wasn't able to disperse it in time.

A very recent memory, since it was only several hours old…

_"I'm finding you all of the sudden very protective of the boy, Severus. Not that I reproach you for that," murmured Dumbledore's gentle voice._

"Someone has to protect him," Snape's voice responded sharply. "You're determined to consider him an adult, responsible and able to face his fate alone. You're wrong. And if no one's able to see him as he really is, to recognize teenager who's full of self-doubts and who's struggling to hide the little, traumatized boy, then yes, I'll do it. Whatever the cost."

And suddenly, Snape was out of Harry's mind.

When Harry opened his eyes, he felt himself shrinking in his armchair, but not because of a transformation this time.

In front of him, Snape had stood and was staring at him, his eyes filled with anger. Harry thought he saw the clenched fist holding his wand tremble slightly.

The memory of the Pensieve and the last Occlumency lesson came back to Harry abruptly.

"I'm sorry…."

"How dare you…Potter! You allow yourself to spy on me here, in my home! It wasn't enough for you to nose around in my memories at Hogwarts? You're sorry, are you?" Snape hissed, his voice simmering with rage.

Harry scrunched himself a bit further into the armchair. He didn't dare look at the Potions master any longer. For it was indeed him right now, and no longer _his_ Snape.

Of course, he'd spied without having the right, he knew that. He'd just not been able to stop himself.

"Potter, I'm waiting for your explanation! What do you have to say in your defense, you insufferable little busybody?"

Even during the incident with the Pensieve, Harry hadn't felt so ill at ease. He'd not only betrayed him, but he'd also disappointed the professor. He felt tears of frustration well up in his eyes, but he quickly held them back. That would be the worst, and certainly wouldn't help the Potions master's temper. And yet, everything had started out so well…

He opened his mouth to repeat how sorry he was, that he hadn't really intended to spy, especially such a personal conversation, but Snape didn't give him the chance.

With a gasp, he abruptly brought his hand up to his Mark, his eyes all of a sudden full of apprehension.

He groaned and with a quick gesture, threw a fistful of Floo powder into the hearth.

"Albus! Come get the boy! I must leave. Immediately!"

Then an instant later: "Very well, as you wish, but make it quickly!"

Without a look at Harry, Snape headed for the potions waiting on the table and quickly shoved them into a large leather sack.

Dumbledore stepped through the fireplace a moment later. "Hello, Harry…if it's all right with you, I'm going to stay with you here until Professor Snape returns."

Unable to say a word, Harry nodded.

Snape finally turned around, and threw an expressionless look at the headmaster. "I don't know when I'll be returning. Probably tonight."

Dumbledore nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't have the chance.

Snape had disappeared with a great _crack¸_ without even looking at Harry.

* * *

* * *

Thanks a lot for the wonderful reviews I've been receiving, I hope you enjoyed this chapter too ;-)


	16. Chapter 16 A Matter of Trust

Thanks to RaeWhit for the translation ;-)

**Chapter Sixteen: A Matter of Trust**

Among the things that Severus hated about being at the Dark Lord's—right after Cruciatus and being in constant worry for his life—was never knowing what to expect when he was summoned.

Of course, Voldemort was generally his usual self: cold and cynical, and perpetually two seconds away from pinning you to the ground with a curse, whether friend or foe.

But the difference between a Voldemort satisfied with his day and one who was cranky could quickly move you from life to death.

Today, Snape had his potions, and he had information. But he'd rarely before felt as nervous approaching his master. Too little time since the last visit…too little time to recover, for his mental barriers to become sufficient again.

But enough time for him to prepare his own healing potions. He felt a stabbing pain in his spinal column as he bowed before the wizard in black.

"Master…."

"Severus. I assume my potions are ready this time?" asked the Dark Lord, his voice almost amused.

"Yes, master."

"Good. I see that my lesson bore fruit. All children need to be sorted out from time to time, isn't that so, my boy?"

Snape shuddered. "Probably, master."

"Probably, Severus?" asked Voldemort, his voice full of menace.

"Without a doubt, my lord. Thank you," the Death Eater replied humbly.

"That's better. Now, stand. What else have you brought for me?"

Snape stood, feeling his knee almost give out. Upright, he had to remain upright. Voldemort must not see his weakness.

"The boy Potter, he's been entrusted into the care of an Order member. I still don't know which one, but I believe he's well-protected."

"Indeed," said the Dark Lord calmly. "He's well-protected."

The Potions master felt a shiver run through him. Did Voldemort know?

"I've not yet succeeded in locating him," he added, trying to hide his distress. "but I've strong suspicions." 

"Suspicions, Severus? Suspicions are not enough for me!" Voldemort bit out, his fingers drumming on the arm of his chair.

Snape couldn't help but feel relief. He wasn't the cause of it…for now.

"I have good reason to believe that the boy's in the care of Remus Lupin," he stated.

"Lupin? The famous werewolf who tried to teach at Hogwarts…and a friend of James Potter's. One of your old acquaintances, Severus," Voldemort murmured.

Snape nodded. Let him amuse himself by running after the werewolf if that kept him busy; if Dumbledore himself hadn't been able to find him when Harry'd desperately needed his help, then no one could do it.

"Yes," the Dark Lord finally said, apparently satisfied. "It's likely…very likely. The boy knows him and trusts him. Much too much."

Once again, Snape felt his entire body tense. What did he mean by that?

Riddle seemed to guess his question, because he shifted his eyes, brimming with satisfaction, to Snape again.

"Whatever dear Dumbledore is doing to keep me from Potter's mind, he can do nothing about the connection that links us. Not completely, and certainly not when the dear boy is as upset as he is."

"Upset, master?" Snape asked softly.

"Clearly upset and unstable. For now, Dumbledore has succeeded in denying me direct access to Potter's mind, but his emotions recently have been strong enough to breach those protections.

"It would appear that Lupin enjoys playing substitute father to the boy. Potter feels surrounded, and that upsets him. Add to that a feeling of false security that is foreign to him. I can almost sense it now. Several hours ago, something upset him enough to make him let down all his defenses.

"It's the most hilarious paradox that our dear Dumbledore has ever given me…love, love, love; it's the only word the old fool knows how to say! But it's exactly these cheap sentiments that will fail him; will it not be exquisitely delicious to see old Albus' strategy backfire and work against him?"

Snape felt himself grow pale.

He knew it. He'd known from the beginning, he'd known that he shouldn't let the boy grow attached to him, that he shouldn't have shown himself as so protective, nor even friendly. But it was his own fault; he'd complacently let go of his own inclinations in favor of not letting the boy be afraid, and look where it'd brought them!

As for a few hours ago, it was an easy enough guess; it was the moment when Harry'd eavesdropped in on that little conversation between him and Dumbledore!

Bloody hell, if he'd had the slightest suspicion that the boy could hear that, if only he'd sensed his presence, if…

He had to get ahold of himself. Harry wasn't in immediate danger; there was still time to get him to safety if he got out of here.

"Master, that is excellent news, which should help you during the trial…." he managed to say in a gleeful voice.

"Ah, the trial. That's right, you'd know about that…."

"Yes, master. Dumbledore's bright idea is to try and push the hearing to as late in the summer as possible, so afraid he is of the meeting," Severus said.

"He might. Potter's Muggles were particularly enthusiastic about the prospect of once and for all getting rid of him for a reward. Isn't it ironic? The prodigal son of the of the wizarding world, the hero of all wizardom, Dumbledore's precious protégé, whom you're barely permitted to justly punish, Severus. How his own family hates him! They're positively astonishing…they'll stop at nothing to belittle the boy. Really, I should've already rewarded them; they've contributed significantly to my cause by making him so unstable and emotional. It will truly be child's play to have him in my power when the moment comes," Voldelmort concluded in a satisfied voice.

"Master," Snape replied, "I beg you, however, to be wary of Potter's powers. Dumbledore was not explicit, but I suspect he's carefully hiding what really happened to Potter during his absence…probably something dangerous enough to be considered as a weapon to be kept secret."

The Dark Lord drummed his fingers on the armrest again, observing his Death Eater thoughtfully. "Indeed, perhaps there's something more to that. Might I know, Severus, why you've not brought proof of it to me?"

"Master, I had too little time, and Dumbledore hardly let me near him. I was able to ascertain that Potter wasn't with the Weasleys, nor in Kingsley's care. I'll try to find out more as soon as possible, my lord," he pleaded.

"I heartily agree. You've done good work, Severus," said the Dark Lord in a soft voice that didn't persuade the Death Eater to relax.

"However, not enough to excuse you. Crucio."

In a split second, just before he gave up holding back his screams, Severus thought that, all things considered, he would've been better off, in the end, had he drunk the fourth and final potion in the box…

ooooOOOOoooo

"So, Harry, how is your stay at the Manor?"

Dumbledore's voice was polite, but Harry sensed that there was more to it than a routine question.

"Good. Really good. At least, I think it is," he sighed in spite of himself.

"You think it is?" the Headmaster repeated encouragingly.

"Professor, I…when you came to talk to Professor Snape earlier, I overheard your conversation. I truly didn't do it on purpose, I swear! I was…in my other form, and I was simply coming back to the house and the window was open, so I could hear. I mean, listen."

He glanced apologetically at the old wizard, who nodded.

"And what exactly did you hear then, Harry?"

"You talking about the trial at the Ministry. The Dursleys. And Professor Snape didn't want me to go there just now. I…" he stopped, frustrated. There were too many things to say, and too many things he didn't want to say out loud.

Dumbledore seemed to understand.

"Harry, that conversation must've shaken you, but you must understand. Professor Snape and I have different opinions on the matter, and we both probably see you in different ways. For my part, I believe that the sooner you face your family and this hearing, the sooner you'll finally feel free. Isn't that right?"

"I don't know," the boy murmured. "It's hard for me to even imagine…."

"Precisely my point. Professor Snape also has your best interests at heart. However, he's not known you nearly as long, and his recent view of things…compels him to want to protect you more than is probably good for you."

With his words, Harry clenched his teeth. "Did anyone think of asking my opinion?" he asked. "You just can't stop making my decisions for me, without asking me! It's not like…you're not my parents! No one is, I'm sixteen now, and I think I'm able to make my own decisions!"

"I can understand that, my boy," Dumbledore replied calmly. "In this instance, what would you like to do?"

"I…I don't know. I need time to think about it. I'd like to talk to Snape about it…I mean, Professor Snape, when he comes back. If he'll actually talk to me."

"Is something wrong?" the Headmaster asked.

"Earlier, during our Occlumency session, the professor realized that I'd overheard your conversation. He was furious…even worse than with the Pensieve, if that's possible," Harry confessed, more and more upset as he recalled the scene.

"Indeed, that vision probably reminded Professor Snape of that bad memory you both shared in your recent past," suggested Dumbledore.

"I suppose…but I really didn't do it on purpose, Professor, I swear it! I was walking by, and I heard your voice. I don't know. Everything was going so well, it was almost as if it was a different Snape, and all of a sudden…everything's like it was before," the boy finished morosely.

"Am I to understand that things between you and Professor Snape are much better now?"

"Yeah, I think so. Well, they are. He's different; he doesn't look at me the same way, as if I were a Blast-Ended Skrewt contaminating his personal space; he's even nice, most of the time." He coughed, embarrassed.

Professor Snape, nice? If the Potions master were to hear that, Harry wouldn't have to worry about the incident of a while ago; there'd be nothing left for him to do but pack his bags. Preferably for another country.

But Dumbledore contented himself with simply nodding, a slight smile on his face.

Encouraged, the boy went on, "He's really taking good care of me. But I think after what's just happened, I'm going to deserve the Potions professor again," he grimaced.

"Professor Snape has his reasons, Harry. This entire situation isn't particularly easy for him either; don't forget that just a few days ago, we feared for his life. The professor's always made it a point of honor to hide his weaknesses, but it's not hard to see that he's still not recovered from his last trip to Voldemort."

"And he's there again…" murmured Harry, a familiar weight settling suddenly onto his chest. He was worrying about Snape being angry, while the man was at this exact moment risking his life…for him.

"In your place, Harry, I wouldn't concern myself too much over this matter," said Dumbledore reassuringly. "The professor has your security very much at heart, and I doubt he'll remain angry with you for very long."

"I don't know," murmured Harry. He had a sinking feeling that there was something much deeper behind this anger. "I just hope he doesn't hate me as much as the last time. I was starting to get used to…" he finished, his voice becoming bitter.

"Oh, Harry," said the Headmaster gently. "No, Professor Snape won't hate you. Believe me, whatever my powers of persuasion, he'd have never agreed to bring you here, to his Manor, if that'd been the case. And what's more, I certainly would've never left you in his care if I'd suspected that the unfortunate episodes of Hogwarts that the two of you lived through could've been repeated."

Harry nodded, his mind put to rest a bit.

"I just wish he'd come back quickly."

Dumbledore smiled and, by way of a reply, held out a package of Every Flavour Beans.

ooooOOOOoooo

Barely a few minutes had passed when the room was filled with the sound of a familiar crack!

Harry and Dumbledore jumped to their feet, and instinctively headed for the figure that'd just appeared in the middle of the room. Snape seemed on the verge of staggering in the empty space, then caught himself and turned toward them, his face cold and haggard.

"Severus, is everything all right?" Dumbledore inquired, obviously worried by the sight of the Potions master's contorted face.

"No. Potter, in your room, and don't even think about leaving it again this evening!"

Harry swallowed hard. "Professor…."

"Now!"

His tone left no room for a reply, and after meeting the professor's crazed eyes, the boy headed for the stairs, with an apologetic look for Dumbledore.

"Severus, surely Harry has the right to know what it's about," pleaded the Headmaster.

But for now, Snape didn't seem inclined to discuss it.

"Absolutely not. You'll have my report tomorrow. I assume the boy's eaten? Perfect. In that case, lights out and if you even think of putting a foot outside of your room, Potter, I assure you it'll be the last time. Now, if you'll excuse me." 

Harry's eyes grew wider. That Snape sometimes allowed himself to direct cutting remarks tinged with irony to the Headmaster was one thing. But that little speech had been completely disrespectful and hostile.

Be that as it may, Dumbledore didn't seem to be offended, and contented himself with a nod of his head. "Tomorrow morning, Severus, I'll come to get Harry."

"Perfect," replied the Potions master through clenched teeth. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the Headmaster and then headed for the stairs.

Stunned, Harry managed to wrench his eyes from the two men, and hurried toward the stairs, which he took four at a time. Rushing into his room, he quickly closed the door.

Snape was just a few steps behind him, and Harry heard him murmur some obscure spells as he walked past the room.

The Potions master slammed his door, and silence once again reigned in the Manor.

Sitting on his bed, his knees drawn up, Harry tried to think about the situation.

He could understand Snape being furious with him—he was used to it. But the way he'd treated Dumbledore?

And yet, the Headmaster hadn't seemed to take it badly. Surely this wasn't a common occurrence…Dumbledore had always appeared to be the sole living person whom Snape respected.

Was it because of the conversation that they'd had earlier? Probably not.

The Death Eater meeting? What had happened there? Snape had refused to give an immediate report on it, and he'd clearly been shaken.

And he'd gone to bed right away…Harry was in a position to know that the professor only left his dungeon to sleep. Not a book or a potion in the bedchamber…

Evidently, Voldemort had really laid into him.

Because of him. Harry felt a shiver run through him. Of course, Snape was angry with him. He'd just been tortured for the second time in the space of several days because of Harry.

All right, Snape had excellent reasons to hate him, and he wasn't at all sure he wanted to know the details.

If he'd been able to take him something to eat…but it'd be best to follow orders and not leave his room. This really wasn't the time to annoy the professor.

ooooOOOOoooo

Severus wondered by what miracle he'd managed to Apparate without being splinched.

He'd barely managed to make out the familiar contours of the laboratory when he noticed the two figures coming to meet him.

No, not them, not now. Every single one of his nerve endings screamed for the strongest painkilling potion that'd ever been conceived, and he wasn't certain his legs would hold up for more than a few minutes.

For certain, his departure from Malfoy Manor had been less than dignified; Disapparating during a moment when the Dark Lord's attention had wavered fell far short of glorious, but he hardly cared what the Death Eaters' thought of him.

On the other hand, he was absolutely not inclined to show his weakness to the only two people whom it was still important for him to impress.

And good god, did they need to look at him with such worry and compassion? Did he appear to deserve their pity?

All he wanted now was peace, to collapse ungracefully into bed and gulp down the stock of painkilling potions he kept in his bedside table. And if possible, die from them. He groped with a hand for the bottles, and swallowed their contents, one after the other.

Was it possible that the Dark Lord had really let him off so easily? Had he really seen what he'd seen?

Impossible. No, it was impossible…and yet, hadn't Voldemort himself reacted? And the Death Eaters?

That big black dog that'd jumped from out of nowhere as Severus was stretched out on the ground, and that'd started to bark insanely at Voldemort, interrupting his incantation… That dog that wasn't one….a simple shadow of what had been an Animagus, of him who'd been one of Severus' worst nightmares: Sirius Black.

The black dog had lunged for the Dark Lord, its bared fangs even more impressive in this phantom form, and the wizard had retreated, casting a useless spell at the shadow.

The Death Eaters, at first stunned, had finally drawn their wands and tried to stop the beast, just as unsuccessfully.

And while all eyes had been on the phantom dog, Severus had seen her.

Lily. Her pale, translucent form had come toward him, and smiled at him again, before stooping down beside him to place a hand on his shoulder.

Severus had abruptly regained the strength and will to stand up. When they were upright, face to face, she'd stared fixedly into Snape's dazed eyes, and her mouth formed a single word.

"Leave."

The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were too busy trying to master the ferocious apparition of the dog to even notice. Severus knew she was right, he had to flee then…like any other Death Eater who'd have the chance to escape his master's punishment. Quickly, and in cowardice.

But to leave Lily there?

Before he had the time to think about it, he felt himself Disapparating in spite of himself. He almost panicked; he didn't have the strength, not yet. But it was already too late, and gathering the last of his strength, he visualized the laboratory where he'd left his other master and the boy.

There, he'd be safe…the boy as well. Lily's son.

For her, it was already too late.

And now? What should he do about Harry, about Dumbledore and the trial, about Voldemort?

Would Lily come back? What did she want? Had Black really meant to save him?

He felt his body relax as the potions started to work.

A few moments longer, and his mental barriers would've fallen. Yes, Black and Lily had saved them all.

Tomorrow, he'd be able to think better. For now, he had to sleep, to rest before the boy took his turn to fall asleep and the alarms sounded to warn him that he was having another nightmare.

If only Harry could stay up all night….

ooooOOOOoooo

On the other side of the hallway, the teenager seated on his bed was almost of the same opinion as his professor.

Tomorrow, he had to present himself to the Ministry. Today, he'd managed to make Snape apoplectic, to very nearly provoke a disagreement between the professor and the Headmaster, and the aforementioned professor had then had to face Voldemort because of him.

Now, Snape was asleep in his room at an early hour, which wasn't like him, and was furious with him.

Harry didn't know what bothered him most in that list, but he'd rarely felt so vexed and disappointed. Why was it that everything he did invariably turned out wrong? Just as he was starting to like the Potions professor, he'd managed to get Snape's back up, even though, truly, he'd not tried to.

If someone had told him a few weeks ago that he'd feel unhappy because he'd disappointed Snape, he'd've rolled laughing on the floor.

Now, though, the idea wasn't funny at all. If only he'd been able to talk to him.... Tomorrow, before the hearing, he'd have some time. Snape had said he'd come if Harry wanted…and Harry wanted him to. He'd need him there if he had to see the Dursleys again.

Seeing Dumbledore and Snape together had all of a sudden made him realize how different the two men were. He respected Dumbledore and knew perfectly well that the Headmaster wouldn't let anyone harm him.

But Snape…. He'd know what to tell Harry to do, by a gesture or a look, and Harry suspected that the professor would be even quicker to draw his wand than Dumbledore, if the occasion called for it.

Even if angry with him. Even if injured because of him.

Dejected, Harry went to the window. It was night now, and only moonlight lit up the park. From his window, he could see the little clearing where he'd trained that afternoon…calm…wait.

Harry squinted. He could've sworn he'd seen something move. A few seconds later, a movement caught his eye again; he was sure of it this time, something was moving beneath the trees! He took a step back, ready to awaken the Potions master; if the wards protecting the Manor had failed, they were both in danger!

But a second glance changed his mind. He recognized this shape that ran and jumped in the moonlight… a big black dog, soon followed by a stag, and the two of them played together in the clearing. Watching them more closely, Harry was sure he could see the trees through their shapes….

A moment later, they'd disappeared, and the weight in the boy's chest grew heavier. He was dreaming, wide-awake… If Sirius and his father had been alive, the hearing the next day would've been a formality.

He closed the curtains and turned toward his bed again. Without conviction, he took a Quidditch book from his trunk and began to leaf through it, his mind elsewhere.

Voldemort… Snape… Sirius… Lily and James… Snape….

Before he had the time to take the Dreamless Sleep potion that he'd intended to drink before bedtime, Harry finally fell asleep.

ooooOOOOoooo

Severus heard the magical alarm resonate in his head like a bell.

As he'd predicted, Harry'd neglected to take his potion. Bloody hell…. He quickly checked the time: it'd been five hours since he'd fallen asleep. An adequate night's sleep, all in all.

He sighed as he opened the door to his room. Even without the magical alarm, the boy's cries would've soon awakened him.

Soundlessly, he entered the room opposite his own, then went to sit on the edge of the bed. With a rapid charm, he made sure the teenager wouldn't awaken. Now wasn't the time for it….

He gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Everything's all right, Harry. Calm yourself. Everything's fine."

To his surprise, the boy calmed down right away. Without opening his eyes, he reached out to Severus and grabbed hold of his sleeve, his fingers clenched in the fabric.

"There. I'm here. You've nothing to fear…."

Smoothing a hand over the boy's tousled hair, Snape watched his features relax, little by little.

Yes, Harry trusted him. Much too much. On that account at least, the Dark Lord had been right.

But he didn't comfort the boy any less, still caressing his hair. What Harry didn't know couldn't hurt him…

ooooOOOOoooo

Harry awoke with the strange feeling of having slept well. It didn't make sense…when he's fallen asleep, he'd felt bitter and overwhelmed, and he knew perfectly well that he never slept soundly under those conditions.

He shook his head. Maybe the Manor was more comforting than Gryffindor Tower after all.

Even if that didn't explain how his book had found its way to his bedside table…

Gathering his thoughts, Harry felt a knot begin in his stomach.

The Ministry hearing…it was today.

He quickly checked the time, using a charm: it wasn't seven o'clock yet. He'd gone to bed early last evening. Might as well fix breakfast and put Snape in a good mood. The ban on leaving his room had only been for the evening before, after all.

But as he passed by the closed door to the professor's room, Harry was fairly certain of what he was going to find in the dining room. Breakfast was already ready, and Snape had left the room long ago.

So much for eating meals together, he thought. He had much less of an appetite now, and quickly ate what was on his plate.

Without waiting any longer, he headed nervously for the dungeon. The familiar sound of phials being moved about didn't reassure him, though. How would Snape be this morning? Recovered? Faithful to his role of tyrannical professor?

He knocked three times quickly, then waited for a response.

"Enter."

Enter. That wasn't good.

Harry reluctantly opened the door and stepped into the room.

Snape was indeed there, with his back to him, seeming much busier than usual with his potions.

"Professor…" the boy began.

Snape turned around, a suspicious look on his face. "Potter, are you ready?"

Caught off guard, Harry stammered, "I, yes, I suppose…so, for what?" 

Snape let out a growl of contempt, so familiar to Harry "For your hearing, naturally; certainly not to go off on a dragon hunt!"

Harry nodded, unable to speak a word. His professor's tone of voice was undeniably one from the old days…one from the worst days.

"It really has to be today?" Harry finally asked.

"If Dumbledore wasn't able to change the date of this meeting, I doubt that even the Famous Harry Potter could do it, even with stacks of autographs. Now, go and pack your bags, then come down quickly. I'm going to alert Dumbledore that you're ready."

Harry felt his head spin. His bags?

"You…think I'll have to stay there long?"

"That's none of my affair. But I don't believe so," the professor replied dryly.

"But…why do I have to take my things, if that's the case?" Harry asked, with a quaver in his voice that he would've liked to have hidden.

"You're moving out, Potter. Relieved?" Snape sneered.

"No! No, I don't want…I'm fine here, Professor, please, do I really have to leave?"

"Certainly. I would've thought the idea would make you jump with joy."

The boy shook his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. No, none of this was right…it wasn't possible. Snape couldn't have changed his mind so quickly, over such a little thing…

"Professor, I'm really, really sorry for having listened to your conversation yesterday. I had no intention of eavesdropping, and I swear it won't happen again," he tried.

"That's for certain," the Potions master sneered once again. "You're not half as sorry as you think you are, Mister Potter. Be that as it may, Dumbledore will find you another refuge until the end of the summer, if that proves necessary. Now, go up and pack your bags and be back in ten minutes."

ooooOOOOoooo

Severus heard the boy's footsteps fade on the stairway. Uneven. Hesitant.

He sighed. Bloody hell, since when did he feel badly after having put Potter in his place?

Probably since Potter was no longer Potter. The look the boy had shot him had been positively disarming, and Severus had caught himself having to make an effort to not soften his voice or his words….

He had to no longer think of Shadow. He had to no longer think of the boy who had nightmares. He had to supply Harry with his best weapons to face what was waiting for him at the Ministry. He'd be disappointed, yes, certainly furious with his horrible tyrant of an obnoxious Potions professor, but at least his mind would be closed to Voldemort.

He had to firmly chase away the sentimental little voice that wouldn't stop telling him that Harry needed him.

And he had to especially set aside, for a few minutes more, the pain that the Death Eater Mark was causing in his arm.

The Dark Lord was calling him again, and he'd not be happy with Severus' delay. He was obviously excited enough as it was, if the burning in his forearm was anything to go by.

Of course, since he was thinking of abducting the boy this very morning….

Hopefully Dumbledore knew what he was doing….

Hopefully the old fool wouldn't make another mistake with the boy….

Moving quickly, he threw a fistful of Floo powder. "Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts!"

Without hesitation, he pushed his head into the flames. "He's ready, Albus."

The old many looked at him kindly. "I'm on my way, Severus. Everything will be fine, my boy."

Snape grumbled and pulled himself back into the dungeon.

A moment later, the Headmaster followed.

"He'll be here in a few minutes," the Potions professor said curtly.

"Severus… have you thought this over? Don't you wish to reconsider your position?" Dumbledore asked, almost pleading.

"No, Albus!" the professor almost spat. "That was all a mistake, a grave error since the beginning! I should've never agreed. The boy…no. I don't want to see him again. Take him, do what you will with him. I don't want him here ever again."

Sighing, the old wizard nodded. "I understand, Severus. I was just hoping that…."

"That's enough. Do what you have to do, Albus, and I'll do the same. You've no idea of the danger…no."

The Potions master's tone was sharp and decisive.

Deciding not to argue, Dumbledore seated himself in a leather armchair and waited, his pained expression lingering on the professor, who turned his back, busy with packing phials into the large leather sack.

ooooOOOOoooo

On the other side of the heavy wooden door, sat a cat, transfixed.

Once again, he'd not done it intentionally.

He'd transformed without wanting to do it, as he was getting his things together. His heart heavy, he was thinking of Snape, of those last days in the dungeon…and he'd become Shadow again. Worse, he'd not been able to resume his human form; as hard as he tried, thinking of Quidditch and his broom, all that he'd managed to see had been the spark of pride in Snape's eyes when he'd succeeded at his first transformation.

Despairing, he'd gone back down the stairs for help. And once again, the voices had made him stop….

A grave error since the beginning. I should've never agreed. I don't want to see him again. Do what you will with him.

Snape.

Snape hated him. He'd been right.

Like a sleepwalker, he went back up the steps and sprawled out on his trunk. It was all he had, just now. The room that had been his during these few days would be shut off to him forever. He wouldn't be coming back to the Manor. Snape would no longer be…what?

His Snape.

He closed his eyes. There was nothing dramatic about it. Snape was only a horrible professor with greasy hair, bad-tempered and cruel, and what'd happened this summer had only been a digression…a plan. Dumbledore, no matter what he might've said, had forced Snape to take him home, and it'd all ended in the spy being tortured and putting everyone in danger.

All right, he was going to leave, he had to. Maybe to the Burrow, with a bit of luck. He doubted it, though. That wasn't how things worked, after all. He wasn't going to risk putting the Weasleys in danger, or Remus, or whoever else was in the least bit concerned about him.

He barely heard the door open and the steps approaching. When he finally lifted his head, it was to see two bright blue eyes observing him with kindness and amusement from behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Well, Harry, do you have a problem?"

The cat meowed uncomfortably. A problem? Why not several hundred?

"Can I help you?" the Headmaster asked.

Another meow answered him.

"Animagus revelio."

In an instant, Harry was sitting on his trunk, a bit stunned.

"Are you ready to leave, my boy?"

Harry nodded, his throat constricted. Dragging his trunk, he went down the stairs again.

When he was finally to the dungeon, he hesitated for an instant. Snape seemed busy…he had promised…. He certainly wasn't going to change his mind now, that wasn't like him.

"Professor…are you coming with us?" he asked, his voice more begging than he would've liked.

"With you, Potter?"

"To the Ministry. You said you'd come if I wanted you to."

Snape gritted his teeth and shot him a glance, a mixture of contempt and irritation.

"Potter, you really do think you're the center of the world, don't you? Professor Dumbledore is already doing you the honor of accompanying you. Whether you believe it or not, there are wizards with occupations in life other than granting you an escort. You're going to the Ministry, not to Malfoy Manor. Pull yourself together," he ground out.

It was as if the last hope that Harry'd held onto had just suddenly crumbled away to nothing. A weight of lead dropped to his stomach, and he felt as if Snape had just struck him with a solid slap.

He tried to meet the professor's eyes, looking for what he'd read there recently, but the man had already turned his back to him.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and jumped; at his side, Dumbledore was looking at him, his expression kind and full of understanding. "Harry, it's time to go."

The boy turned one last time toward the Potions professor, who still had his back to him. His shoulders were strangely tense, it seemed to Harry….

Harry searched for something to say, something that would've softened the professor, even one last time…

He shrugged. Snape. Snap was Snape…so what?

Refusing to stay any longer in the dungeon where he'd felt at home for a time, Harry turned to Dumbledore and nodded.

He wouldn't say a word. His voice would shake, and he refused to give that to the professor.

The Headmaster seemed to understand, because the arm that circled around Harry's shoulders as they passed through the fireplace brought him more comfort than the trip warranted.

As they disappeared from the laboratory, Harry thought he saw in the Headmaster's eyes, which hadn't left the Potions master's back, a spark of regret and sadness that he'd never seen there before.

ooooOOOOoooo

The arrival at the Ministry didn't make Harry as anxious as he'd thought it would.

Actually, the confrontation with the Dursleys almost didn't interest him now.

He'd never again be Shadow. After this hearing, he'd be taken somewhere, to another house, under the responsibility of someone else who'd he once again put in danger.

When he'd see Snape again, it'd be at Hogwarts, and he'd definitely be the Potions professor that he should've never ceased to be.

Oh, and he supposed his Potions mark would stay the same in the end…he could never be an Auror.

What was he complaining about? He'd deserved it, after all. He brought misfortune and death to people. Even to the Durslesys who didn't love him, even to Snape who hated him….

Harry, though, couldn't bring himself to hate him. If only he could keep the memory of those few days intact, when he'd been a cat, and welcomed….

Dumbledore pushed him gently with a hand.

Across from him, Fudge was speaking, but Harry didn't hear his words. Actually, he barely saw Fudge himself…but that didn't seem to bother him, and after a few moments, he and Dumbledore moved away.

The room seemed bathed in fog, and everything was fine. His eyes blurry, Harry was seized by a sudden urge to check what was behind the door that stood across from him. He was suddenly certain that someone was behind it, waiting for him….

Something…no, someone was telling him that it would be him. Yes, him…Sirius…or James…or Snape, his Snape, whom he'd prefer. Lily, even, if he wanted.

He moved forward as if in a dream. Yes, he was going to open the door, and he'd be on the other side of it, and everything would be over, all would be peaceful. Slowly, he turned the doorknob. He shouldn't make any noise, he shouldn't be noticed.

On the other side, they were waiting for him, and he'd never be in pain again, he'd never hurt anyone again. There'd be someone there…a family.

He went through the door and closed it softly behind him. Across from him stood a figure that he had trouble recognizing, through the fog in his mind.

He blinked and the figure came toward him.

A tall man with long blond hair.

The voice sniggered, giving a name to the figure: Malfoy

"That was too easy, Potter, much too easy."

Lucius Malfoy rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, and the crack that followed absorbed Harry's cry.

The door opened once again, a second too late.

At Malfoy Manor, a shout of triumph rang out when the two figures appeared in the middle of the sitting room.


	17. Chapter 17 Three Times a Heartbreak

A/N: This chapter, destined to be especially dark, contains torture, more mental than physical, but present all the same. Not very pleasant to read, and not for the faint of heart!

Chapter Seventeen: Three Times a Heartbreak

Narrowing his eyes, Severus tried to focus. It was a nightmare, an absolute nightmare…

The burning in his Dark Mark, which had lasted all morning, finally subsided. The Dark Lord was satisfied. He had Harry Potter.

How had he been able to snatch him right out from under Dumbledore? Nothing, absolutely nothing had happened as he'd foreseen. Once again, Severus Snape had chosen poorly.

Not just _one _bad choice, but a whole series of misjudgments and mistakes that had led them straight to this catastrophe.

Not to panic…he had to find a way. He had to get Harry out of here at all costs, by Merlin. He'd not let the boy out of his sight until the Dark Lord was reduced to a pile of harmless bones. No, not until the boy himself was old and grey with a beard as long as Albus'.

Harry….

If only he'd responded right away to the call of the Mark.

But he'd waited for the boy to awaken on his own. He'd made sure he'd eaten, and especially that Harry'd been stripped of any notion of kindness or affection on Severus' part.

Good god, the boy had a gift for attaching himself to those who could do him the most harm.

Harry had scarcely disappeared from the dungeon, in Dumbledore's so-called keeping, when he'd Disapparated himself, finally answering the Dark Lord's summons, which had been calling for him for several hours.

What could he possibly want of him? Certainly not potions; even Voldemort knew he couldn't demand they be ready in such a short time.

To punish him for his hasty departure? Possible, but unlikely. Any reasonable Death Eater would've done the same.

And indeed, if the dark wizard had been annoyed enough with Severus' attitude to make him feel it through the Mark, that had done nothing to hide Voldemort's good mood.

But Snape's tardiness had still been long enough to ruin his chances of saving the boy before it was too late.

"Severus. Finally," the Dark Lord threw at him, displeased, when he saw him appear.

"I apologize, master, I was trying to get your potions together, and Dumbledore asked me…" the Potions master attempted to justify himself.

"How many times must I repeat that excuses don't interest me, Severus?" Voldemort hissed.

Snape bowed in silence.

"I intended to entrust a mission of the greatest importance to you…but you've just proved yourself unworthy of it. Lucius is hardly any better, but at least he responded to my summons in time. Since only one of you could accomplish the mission, I'll have to be content with it."

"I apologize, master. Can I be of service at the moment?"

"We'll see about that in a few minutes. Dumbledore is due to arrive at any moment at the Ministry of Magic. Lucius is waiting for him there, since he knows the points of entry. He'll have the honor of bringing the boy back to me. That could've been you, Severus. This will teach you to be punctual. If Lucius succeeds in bringing me Harry Potter, he'll be amply rewarded."

Snape felt a shiver run down his spine. Lucius was there… and it could've been him! This plan could've been thwarted so easily, and he'd let it slip by!

But Dumbledore was with Harry, so he had nothing to fear. He'd sufficiently shaken the boy so that he'd seal off his mind to Voldemort.

Voldemort, though, didn't seem to share his point of view. For the very first time, Severus heard him let out a low laugh, not that little cynical, cruel snigger, but one of pure happiness.

"And Harry… Oh Harry, how weak he is! A rag doll, a marionette in my hands. Dumbledore hasn't the slightest idea of how defenseless his protégé is!" he chuckled.

Snape swallowed with difficulty. "Master, can you sense him?" he asked.

"Sense him? Only Dumbledore's potions are keeping me from reading his mind like an open book. That's the only thing resisting me, and how interesting…the channel between our minds completely opened again this morning. All the boy's defenses fell without my even touching him."

He was still laughing softly, his face split by a bizarre and worrisome smile.

"I don't understand…My Lord," Snape continued, "how can he feel safe when he's about to see his family again? Does he trust Dumbledore that much?"

"In the end, this feeling safe and sound wasn't our hero's greatest weakness. Or was it? Whichever the case, no, the boy doesn't feel safe. He feels completely vulnerable, abandoned and unhappy. It would seem that something went terribly wrong with Lupin!"

He laughed outright this time. "Can you imagine that, Severus? Even the werewolf can't stand Harry Potter for more than a few days! He broke the poor boy's heart; I'm almost tempted to feel sorry for him!"

Snape felt the room spin around him. He didn't know which made him sickest: Voldemort's demented laughter, or the thought that he'd just offered Harry to him on a silver platter.

He who prided himself on being a fine strategist, he was going to have to reconsider his tactics.

How had he managed to underestimate Potter's capacity for taking his words to heart? He'd recently had plenty of chances to observe how excessively emotional and sensitive the boy was. How long had it been since he'd so miserably failed to manipulate a teenager…and Voldemort?

Perhaps precisely since he'd tried to manipulate them instead of following his instincts… But he didn't have anymore time to ponder the question; the Dark Lord had abruptly stopped laughing, and let out a small cry of triumph.

A moment later, he went into a trance, ignoring Snape as he murmured softly, "Everything's fine, Harry…everything's fine…listen to me, hear only my voice…that's perfect, everything will be fine. Look at the door in front of you. Yes, that one, go, my boy, go and open it. Behind it, you'll find what you're looking for. The one you're looking for. All that you want…a family, isn't that right? There, behind it. But be careful, go quietly…yes, that's very good, just behind it, someone's waiting for you, open it. Good, close it now…that's perfect."

No, that couldn't work, what was Dumbledore doing…he had to stop him before…

But it was too late. With a resounding _crack_, Lucius Malfoy appeared in the Manor sitting room, holding the boy by the shoulder.

Harry seemed haggard, his eyes glazed, as if he'd just awakened from a dream…or rather, a nightmare.

"No!"

With a jump backward, Harry pulled himself from Lucius' grasp. He didn't get much farther, though; looking around, his eyes found Snape and the dark wizard at his side, and he stopped, frozen in his tracks.

"Do not stay here, my Lord, I beg of you," Snape cried out, thrusting himself between the boy and the Dark Lord. "Remember what I told you! His powers! Do not risk yourself!"

Snape felt a cold wave run through him, but his argument seemed to strike home. Voldemort took his turn to seize him by the shoulder, and they disappeared, leaving the boy in the hands of the master of the house.

_Bought a bit of time_, the Potions master thought… How much, exactly, before Voldemort decided that the boy wasn't dangerous?

Severus immediately recognized their landing spot: Nott's cottage, sufficiently isolated and protected to serve as a fallback refuge for the Dark Lord.

"My Lord, give us time to make certain Potter doesn't post a threat to you! We still do not know what he…."

"Severus," the Voldemort interrupted calmly. "I don't like the way the boy looked at you. He was clearly looking to you for help. Since when does Potter consider you an ally?"

Perfect, this was all that he needed. How was it possible for things to go this badly?

Thank Merlin, no other Death Eater was gifted enough in Legilimency to break into the boys' mind.

"Master, he's aware I brewed the healing potions that put him back on his feet, and that I'm an Order member. He surely hoped that my loyalty was such that it would save him."

"Really? His mind indicated that it's more than that. It'd be best for you, Severus, if it turns out the boy has illusions."

"Give me the chance to prove it to you, master."

"You'll have it. But for now…."

The familiar _crack _rang out, and Nott appeared in the middle of the room where they now were.

"So quick, my faithful Death Eater…that's perfect. Follow his example, Severus," said the Dark Lord mockingly.

Snape bowed without answering.

"Nott, return to Malfoy Manor. Have Lucius keep the boy shut up in the dungeon where he and Bellatrix can watch him. You can help them as well. I want Potter to be weak, in every possible way. Use any method you like; in two days, I want him broken and begging. If he really has any power, find it out for me. Is that clear?"

"Very clear, master," Nott answered eagerly.

"Perfect. However, I want the boy to be able to talk to me when I return. He might have some interesting revelations to make…on top of the pleasure of hearing him beg for me to spare him. Enjoy yourselves…this is your reward, Death Eaters. Make use of it!"

Nott sniggered and bowed in thanks to his master, before Disapparating to Malfoy Manor.

Snape shifted his weight from one foot to the other for a moment. "Master, would you allow me…"

"No, I need you here. My potions. You'll use Nott's supplies, he's well-stocked. You'll be my personal guard for these next two days. An honor that will well compensate you well for not being able to amuse yourself with Potter, I hope?"

"Of course, my Lord. If I could just Apparate quickly to my laboratory to collect the necessary ingredients."

"You'll make do with what you find here. If need be, Nott himself will go to retrieve your supplies. Get to work."

Once again, the Potions master bowed, then headed for Nott's sehelves. Yes, he had what was needed to work with…and no excuse to return to Malfoy Manor.

He had to warn Dumbledore…warn him? What good would it do? As if he didn't already know!

Two days, that was how long he had to get Harry out of there. It was useless to hope that the Order would manage to break through the Manor's wards, now that the boy was being held there.

Among the potions he'd had the boy drink that morning, the Anti-Animagus potion should prevent him from transforming for an entire day. After that, he could only pray that the boy would manage to use his powers at the right moment.

Short of a miracle, Severus' only chance would be to accompany the Dark Lord when he returned to the Manor in two days.

The boy would survive. Lucius was watching over him…but at what cost?

He quickly glanced over his shoulder. His eyes met the red and piercing ones of the wizard with the serpent-like face.

Severus himself was on tenterhooks. Two days…he couldn't make a single misstep. If the Order didn't come up with something, he'd be the boy's last chance.

May Lily forgive him, but from now until then, he had to leave Harry in Death Eater hands.

ooooOOOOoooo

Harry Potter wasn't particularly afraid of the dark or confined spaces. After ten years of sleeping in a cupboard, he knew he was immune to claustrophobia.

So, when Malfoy sneered and threw him down into the windowless dungeon, telling him to take a deep breath while he still had the chance, Harry's first thought was that Lucius had grossly underestimated him.

But when he watched the walls come together, forcing him to pull his knees in against himself, Harry felt ready to change his mind. Hands tied behind his back, stone walls closing in on him from all sides, he felt a vague sense of panic wash over him.

Trying to control his breathing, he propped his chin on his knees. He had to calm down…

Exactly what had happened? Voldemort could've killed him on the spot…but Snape had told him to be wary of him and his powers. His powers? How could transforming into a cat help him to vanquish Voldemort?

Maybe… In any case, he would feel less cramped in his cell as Shadow; the chains around his wrists would certainly fall off, and he'd be able to slip through Malfoy's legs when he opened the door.

Closing his eyes, he visualized a picture of Snape….then opened them again right away.

Snape? What did Snape want from him exactly?

So, this was why he'd not been able to come with him to the Ministry; he'd chosen to go back to Voldemort.

The traitor!

Or was he? After all, he'd tried to take Voldemort away…

Remembering this, Harry rubbed his forehead against his knees. The dark wizard's presence had sent waves of pain through his scar. Even now, he could feel the wizard's hatred and impatience. He wasn't far away…and he was jubilant.

Was this why the professor's mood had abruptly changed recently? Had he known what was going to happen today? No, he'd tried to get Harry out of the going to the hearing…

No. No, Snape had kept him safe. He'd had every chance to hand him over to Voldemort when he'd been at the Manor.

Snape was on his side, he was sure of it. Because otherwise…he didn't stand a chance, did he?

And if he was wrong about the professor, then there was no longer a reason for Shadow to even _be._

Even though he'd slept and eaten only several hours ago, Harry felt exhausted. Everything had become terribly confused since his arrival at the Ministry, when he'd seen that door, with that voice talking to him inside his head.

Voldemort. Obviously. How could he've let him manipulate him like that? Oh, while on the subject, how could Dumbledore have let them kidnap him right from under his nose?

Dumbledore and Snape! If those were the two who were supposed to save him, he'd better start to think of a plan of his own!

The boy's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Already?

There were several of them…three, he counted. They were talking with their voices lowered, laughing…

The door was swung open wide, and light flooded the little cell. Harry blinked, trying to see their faces. Lucius, obviously, and over his shoulder, the demented smile that'd remained etched in his memory.

Bellatrix.

Sirius' cousin, who'd killed him only a few weeks ago… The episode at the Ministry, of just a few hours ago, seemed like decades in the past to him.

But now, Harry had to bite his lips to keep from screaming with rage, the picture of Sirius falling through the Veil because of Bellatrix Lestrange's curse more vivid than ever.

If he had a chance, the slightest chance…he'd transform into Shadow and disfigure her before ripping her throat out!

Ignoring Harry's venomous look, Malfoy grabbed him by the collar and pulled him from his cage. "So, Potter, happy to see us? Do you like your new room? You'll have all the time in the world to get to know its length, and width and depth, not to worry…."

Behind him, Bellatrix Lestrange's laughter rang out, as well as that of a Death Eater whom Harry didn't recognize.

"We're going to enjoy ourselves together, Potty! Oh yes, you will see, we're going to get along very well. I'm sure you'll have plenty of things to tell us!" chuckled Bellatrix, her face so close to Harry's that he could feel her breath.

With an abrupt gesture, Malfoy pushed him back into the dungeon. The boy braced himself to hit the wall, but to his surprise, he fell flat out onto the floor.

One look around the room, and Harry understood: the walls had slid back, giving way to a large, gloomy, windowless room.

The three Death Eaters entered and surrounded the boy, clearly satisfied with themselves.

"It seems I forgot to wish you welcome to Malfoy Manor," Lucius said with a small, polite smile. "Be our guest for the days to come…you will have the huge honor of being received by the Dark Lord in person. Until then…we're going to try to get you ready to meet him, all right?"

Bellatrix's hysterical laughter began again.

"Whenever you want," Harry replied calmly.

"Oh really, Mister Potter?" whispered Malfoy, clearly amused. "You're very sure of yourself…. Was Snape right, do you have something to hide from us?"

Snape.

Harry's mind worked rapidly: Snape had made them believe that he had a hidden power with the capability to counter Voldemort. He surely hadn't meant to speak of his Animagus form; the Potions master had only sought to give him an advantage.

He shouldn't lose it…and he shouldn't betray Snape, either.

"That traitor…" he hissed between his teeth, trying to bring to mind all the anger and frustration he'd felt about the professor. This shouldn't be that hard, after all…

The three Death Eaters burst into laughter.

"Oh, Harry, you're so charmingly naïve! It's all right if I call you Harry, isn't it? Draco's talked to me so often about you that I feel I know you well. Really, who _doesn't_ talk about the Boy Who Lived…."

Harry gave no reply. The less he spoke, the less he'd risk betraying himself….

"My cousin's godson, dear little Harry Potter! That almost makes us relatives, doesn't it, Harrrrrrrrry?" asked Bellatrix with a big smile.

"Don't talk about Sirius," grumbled the boy, forgetting his resolution.

"Oh, we've hit a sensitive spot! Sirius, brave Sirius Black, who loved Gryffindors and Mudbloods so much! What a huge loss, wasn't it, Bellatrix?" teased Malfoy gleefully.

"_Don't talk about Sirius!"_ Harry growled. He felt the blood pounding at his temples. It was no longer fatigue that troubled his eyesight, but rather anger now.

"Awww, he misses his godfather, the poor boy. You shouldn't, love, it won't be long before you join him, take my word! But first, you must show us your new talents. Come, a little demonstration, Harry dear, your godfather would've been so proud of you!"

In a groan of rage, Harry managed to get back up on his feet. It was only when he tried to attack Bellatrix that the revelation seized Harry: not only were his wrists tied behind his back, but his wand had disappeared.

How? When? Who?

An instant later, the question evaporated as he found himself thrown to the ground by an _Electro_ generously cast by Malfoy.

"Tsk, tsk, my boy, who told you to get up? So, the Muggles didn't teach you manners? No, indeed, I suppose one can't expect that of Muggles…no matter. Let me help you."

Grabbing Harry by the hair, he pulled him to his feet, where he stood unsteadily.

"So, Harry, you have something to tell us?" 

Staring at Bellatrix darkly, the boy didn't answer.

"No? _Crucio!"_

Harry fell to the ground again, all his anger forgotten… Crucio, Voldemort, the cemetery, Cedric…

He gasped when he could breathe again, and wasn't sure anymore of where he was. The three figures above him were laughing, it was dark, and every one of his nerves was on fire…

A hand grabbed him by the hair, and once again he was standing, supported by powerful hands.

"Harry, Harry, this could be so much easier…do you want something to drink?" asked the smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy.

The boy gritted his teeth and shifted his eyes to Bellatrix, who was laughing out loud, a few steps away. If only he could transform right now…but thinking of Snape would be too dangerous.

A hand seized his jaw and forced him to look at Malfoy.

"Look at me when I talk to you. Anyway, you don't need these glasses, do you, to look insolent?"

The glasses went flying and broke under the sole of the unknown Death Eater's shoe.

"Thanks," Harry said with a smile, looking Malfoy straight in the eye this time. "I was just looking for a good reason to get new ones. The frames didn't look good on me."

Malfoy laughed softly, as if he thought it a good joke.

But an instant later, Harry felt a Cruciatus once again toss him to the stone floor, and he clearly heard his own cries echoing off the dungeon walls.

No, Lucius Malfoy definitely didn't have a sense of humor.

ooooOOOOoooo

Night fell, and the calm of Nott's cottage threatened to drive Severus to the edge of a nervous breakdown.

No one had Apparated since Nott's departure, and spending an entire day preparing potions under the constant, watchful eye of the Dark Lord was a new experience that he never wanted to repeat.

Not that the dark wizard was intrusive. Actually, he'd not spoken a word all day, content to stare at Severus with his red eyes, drumming his fingers on his armchair, sometimes getting up to walk a bit.

But he wasn't all that silent. The first time he'd heard the little laugh behind his back, Severus had swiftly turned, looking to find the cause of this sudden hilarity.

When he saw the Dark Lord's vacant, half-closed eyes, the Potions master froze. It wasn't himself, nor anyone in the cottage who was making the dark wizard laugh.

It was Potter, undeniably. And that certainly wasn't a good thing…

The bursts of nasty laughter, mixed in with phrases in Parseltongue, made the hair on the back of the professor's neck stand up every time he heard it.

What were they doing to the boy? To his cat? He'd sworn he'd not allow it…if only he could get to Malfoy Manor! But even then, he'd not be able to get the boy out that easily.

Between two potions and two of the Dark Lord's sinister laughs, Severus had time to consider his options.

He knew he couldn't Apparate; the anti-intrusion wards had certainly been reactivated after Nott's arrival. Floo powder definitely wasn't a consideration; so, there remained only two solutions.

The first was certainly the weaker: the good old-fashioned method, escape on foot. But to take Potter, running away right out from under the noses of Death Eaters and Voldemort? It was totally suicidal. He'd need more than one dose of Felix Felicis to pull that one off.

Which left the Portkey. Dumbledore's so-called gift, his last resort…

Distractedly, Severus touched the bottle through the fabric of his wizarding robes. For fifteen years it'd been there, carefully kept in a pocket, waiting for a desperate situation to present itself.

But would it still work after all this time? Would it really manage to take him outside the wards around him, as Dumbledore had reassured him it would? He doubted it.

Be that as it may, there was one last problem. The Portkey had been configured to carry only one person: himself. No passenger, and no one but Severus Snape.

Yes, Dumbledore had foreseen everything…except that the desperate situation would consist precisely of saving his Precious Potter.

Which left Shadow. In his cat form, perhaps the Portkey would allow him to take this second passenger, if he himself held on to him firmly?

It was their best chance.

On the face of it, their only chance.

Behind him, the Dark Lord let out a gleeful laugh again, one that chilled him.

"Oh yes, Harry, scream…nothing pleases me more…soon you can beg me to let you die, but for now, show us what you can do…"

Snape clenched his teeth, fighting a violent urge to throw the bottle of bubotuber pus he was holding onto the figure behind him.

Lucius knew how to be creative. Would Harry be able to transform when the moment came?

His hand shaking slightly with rage and frustration, the Potions master bent over the cauldron to pour in the liquid.

Patience. He had to bide his time… 

ooooOOOOoooo

"What a shame that Severus isn't allowed to join us; he certainly would've loved playing with Potter!" said Bellatrix regretfully.

"That remains to be seen," Malfoy replied skeptically. "Recently, the Dark Lord has not been as happy with his services. I wonder…never mind, we'll know in short order. Do you think he's ready?" 

Harry sensed Bellatrix crouch down close beside him. She ran a hand through his hair and all the boy's painful muscles stiffened.

"Yes, I think we can begin," she finally said.

Begin? Harry clenched his jaw hard. What did she mean by that?

He felt like he'd been there for an eternity…the dungeons were black now, but he knew it wasn't a matter of what time it was. He simply no longer had the strength to distinguish anything but vague outlines.

How much time had passed since he'd arrived at the Manor? Hours, certainly, maybe days. The three Death Eaters were taking turns, as they'd said it so well, so that Harry wouldn't get bored. He'd hardly had the chance.

He'd lost count of the number of incantations cast at him; he didn't know most of them anyway. But at this point, he was persuaded he had at least an arm and an ankle that were unusable, a few broken ribs and blood in his mouth.

It was also very likely that the liquid he could feel with his fingers was his own blood.

This wasn't the first time that Voldelmort had managed to capture him, and to be used as a target for the attacks of this happy band of sadists wasn't a great novelty for Harry either. Grinding his teeth, he'd tried to imagine himself flying on his Firebolt, far, far away from this dungeon….

That worked sometimes with the Dursleys, and the vision could also keep him from changing into a cat in spite of himself.

Snape would've been proud of his idea…

No, he mustn't think of Snape. Especially not Snape.

But the Death Eaters had much more imagination than Uncle Vernon. Cruciatus couldn't be an end in itself, according to Malfoy, so they'd deployed a large variety of curses whose effects were as diverse as they were painful. Nott, unsurprisingly, took the initiative in the game 'throw Potter to the opposite wall,' but the party didn't last long; the walls quickly won with a K.O.

Bellatrix finally found a contest that they all agreed on: make Harry shout the loudest, or the most often as possible.

Harry made it a point of honor to not give his torturers, such as they were, this satisfaction. But despite his efforts, that contest was becoming easier and easier to win…

When he'd started to feel his mind become clouded, worn down by suffering, he tried hard to hang onto to a few simple thoughts.

Above all else, not to think of Snape. If he wanted to get out of here alive, it was his best chance, and no one was supposed to know. If only he'd had more time to practice Occlumency.

His next thought was that he had two advantages in reserve. All right, maybe the word 'reserve' was a bit of an exaggeration…but Snape had bought him some time—how much, he didn't know, but a reprieve all the same. Finally, he had Shadow…when the moment came, the element of surprise could be decisive…if he managed to transform!

And then, he had to think of Dumbledore. And of the Order. They wouldn't leave him to die here; they were surely on their way. He probably wouldn't even need to transform or escape on his own, that option being rather compromising…

Finally, and especially, he daren't give up. Whatever happened, whatever they did…he wouldn't plead. He wouldn't beg them, and he wouldn't obey. They couldn't force him. And if he wasn't mistaken, the Death Eaters were forbidden to kill him; their role was to wear down his resistance.

Oh well, they wouldn't win.

When Bellatrix finally decided that he was ready, Harry was no longer sure he knew his name. Dumbledore was a distant shadow, the Order just a vague notion.

If someone was determined to get him out of here, he would've much preferred that they do it _before_ Bellatrix started…

"Drink that, my little one, you'll love it…a potion from you favorite professor!"

Harry steeled himself to fight against the phial he felt pressed to his lips, but the reference to Snape made him stop, and he reluctantly swallowed the liquid.

In a few moments, the pain seemed to recede from his body, and his vision became clearer.

Faithful to his mania, it was Lucius Malfoy who grabbed him by the hair to force him to stand; to his great surprise, Harry managed to keep his feet.

He was still hurting; he felt exhausted, and his voice was hoarse from having screamed too much, but he had enough strength to hold himself up and look the Death Eater in the eyes.

Too bad, he thought, not enough saliva to spit in his face….

But did he need it? He smiled slightly as he ran his tongue over his cracked lips.

Doing his best to aim for the Death Eater who'd not let go of his hair, he spat a stream of blood that hit the man's face with a _splat_, very satisfying to Harry.

Once again, Malfoy smiled at him cruelly, and Harry knew that gesture of defiance was going to cost him dearly.

But he decided it'd been worth the trouble, as Malfoy calmly wiped his face. Without saying a word, he released Harry from his chains.

Then he turned to Bellatrix. "He's ready."

Suddenly, the room changed, and the light reappeared, streaming in through a window. A window? Harry blinked, trying to get used to the brightness. The room was richly decorated, full of furniture, curios and paintings, and there, standing in the middle of the room, the desk he knew so well...

_Lemon drop?_

Dumbledore's desk.

How? Had he succeeded in getting out of there? By what miracle…

Noticing two figures in a corner, Harry stopped short. He didn't have his glasses, but he'd seen those silhouettes often enough in recent years, that he knew them from far away.

"Professor Dumbledore! Professor McGonagall! How did I get here? I don't understand…."

The two of them came to him silently, calmly.

"Professors?"

"Harry, I'm happy to see you," Dumbledore said gently.

"Professor, please, how did I get her?" Harry asked feverishly. Something wasn't right, he could sense it.

"You don't remember, my boy? We went to free you, the Order, everyone was there."

"Everyone? You mean…is everyone all right?"

Dumbledore slowly shook his white head, his eyes half-closed. "Remember. Make an effort, Harry. They died for you, after all. Because of you."

Harry staggered, stunned. "Dead? But who?"

"Everyone, Harry. But you're safe, that's what counts, isn't it, my boy?" asked Dumbledore almost reassuringly.

"No! No, it's not possible, I don't want, I…."

Harry pulled back, looking desperately for a way out of the room, out of this situation. But Dumbledore came toward him and grabbed his jaw like Malfoy had done earlier.

"Look at me, Harry. They're dead because of you. What are you going to do to deserve your life now?"

Harry let out a strangled sound, covered by the noise of McGonagall laughing from behind Dumbledore.

"Harry, Harry, I'm so disappointed, all that for this? Look at you, you hardly had the strength to stay on your feet…and you're the one who has to conquer the Dark Lord? Merlin, might as well say the war is lost," said his Head of House.

"After all we've done for you, Harry," Dumbledore said, a threat in his voice, tightening the grip of his hand a bit more. "With all who've died for you. I'm terribly disappointed."

His eyes wide, Harry couldn't look away from the Headmaster. He seemed so angry, so disgusted to see him…and suddenly, the impossible happened.

Dumbledore finally released him, and for an instant, Harry thought he was going to let him leave. But the old wizard's hand balled up in a fist that struck Harry in the face with surprising strength, sending him roughly to the floor again.

The boy turned over, hand at his cheek, a lost expression on his face. And McGonagall was laughing hysterically…

"You don't deserve to be a Gryffindor, Potter. No, actually, you don't even deserve to be a wizard. Hogwarts should've never accepted you as a student. _Crucio."_

As he clung to the rug, trying desperately not to scream, Harry tried to figure out what was wrong with this scenario. Dumbledore had never lifted a hand in violence to anyone, not this way. He'd fought Voldemort at the Ministry, yes, but using magic! And McGonagall…

Was disappointed. Just disappointed. People were dead because of him, and he had to pay.

"Sorry…sorry.... I'm sorry!"

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Looking up, he thought he saw a satisfied smile on McGonagall's face…had he said the right thing?

But Dumbledore, who'd come close, left him no illusions. With a well-placed kick, he sent Harry rolling further away.

"You'll never be sorry enough, Harry. Being sorry doesn't bring back the dead."

"I didn't want that to happen, I'll do anything you want, give me a chance!"

"A chance, Harry? Did Lupin and Tonks, did the Weasleys have a chance?" said the old wizard menacingly.

"The Weasleys?" Harry choked out. "No! They can't be, I just can't, it's not possible! Is it?"

"All of them, Harry. The whole family, from father to the young girl, including your dear Gryffindor friend. What's left now, my boy? You? Look at you, you're pitiful…what a waste!"

Harry didn't think McGonagall's shrill laugh strange. Actually, he didn't hear her.

Kneeling on the ground, he sobbed in misery, not even feeling the pain in ribs anymore. Ron…Ginny…Remus…all dead…what did he have left?

"Potter!" McGonagall's voice cut in after a while. "Up, Potter! Stop lying on the floor, we don't have time for your whinging!"

Like a sleepwalker, Harry managed to get up, wobbling, his eyes blurred with tears.

"All we have now is a weepy little boy, Potter; what do you think, that tears will save the world? No one wants to wipe your nose for you; a bit of pride, eh?!"

The boy tried to raise his head, but the tears still flowed in spite of himself.

"Pathetic, Potter. _Crucio."_

When McGonagall finally ended the curse, Harry almost regretted it. At least the pain kept him from thinking about the rest of it….

"I am…sorry," he murmured, which required a great effort.

"Really, Mister Potter? Then say it again. On your knees. Ask for forgiveness for your faults…for what you are."

For a moment, Harry thought about gathering all his remaining strength, but….

No.

It wasn't fair.

He'd not wanted this to happen, and McGonagall…would've never asked him to do such a thing. To ask forgiveness from the witch and wizard who were watching him cruelly, satisfied smiles on their faces, wouldn't afford him any redemption.

Dumbledore must've seen something in Harry's face, because he seized him by the hair and forced him to his knees, his blue eyes now hard and contemptuous.

"Well then, Harry? We're waiting."

"No," the boy murmured.

"No?" the man repeated softly.

"No."

A moment later, a different spell struck him, aimed directly at his scar, and he finally fell into a black and blessed unconsciousness.

Everything was dark…he was floating, finally free of the pain that'd afflicted him for…hours. Days? 

He didn't know anymore. Someone had died…many people had died. Dumbledore…he didn't want to go back there anymore.

He preferred the blackness.

But the blackness wasn't complete, actually…there was something that glimmered, in the distance. Mildly curious, Harry directed his mind toward the light.

A room…a lamp. It was almost nighttime. A man…no, two men, dressed in black, busy doing something in silence.

But one of them wasn't really a man, was he?

Harry went closer. The larger of the two was the one who wasn't human. Not entirely… Harry's mind lingered on the pale face pierced by two red eyes, the pupils vertical slits…his hatred, his euphoria, his cruelty.

Harry was almost floating as he walked the length and width of the vast room. He knew this presence, it was so familiar that it was almost a part of him….

He hated him, probably not as much as the wizard with the serpent-like head hated Harry; he wasn't capable of it, but all the accumulated resentment resurfaced as he watched the creature's reptilian smile.

So much glee. So much triumph. So much malevolence.

Harry drew back and turned his mind toward the other wizard.

He could sense this one as well…how he didn't like the creature skulking behind him. He feared it, but even more, it disgusted him. It wasn't toward the creature, though, that the man in black's thoughts were directed.

He was worried. Even more than that, he was trying to hide a deep anxiety over the same object that was the source of the other wizard's elation.

Someone. A cat…no, a boy. Harry allowed himself to be cradled by the feeling that he found there.

The man in black was worried about someone for whom he cared.

Someone who was now in danger….

Himself.

Harry felt the scene dissolve. Snape, Snape was worried about him; he was with Voldemort, and was biding his time to come and save him!

When everything disappeared in a dark tunnel, the boy had one last vision. Something had attracted the Potions master's attention, and he'd looked up, troubled.

For a brief moment, Harry had the impression that their eyes had connected, that Snape saw him and really sensed he was there.

What was in that look, Harry would've never imagined seeing in his professor's eyes: worry, relief…and the promise that all would end well.

Without knowing why, this vision had seemed so much more real than his visit to Dumbledore's office…maybe because he hadn't had the feeling that everything about it rang false!

But he didn't have the time to mull over these details. His entire body became aware of itself as he regained consciousness…

The room wasn't the same one, and this time he didn't recognize it.

He struggled up onto his elbows, trying to see the décor. Probably a child's room. There were toys lying on the floor, and a crib completed the peaceful and serene picture that the place inspired.

Once again, Harry saw two figures coming toward him. They seemed vaguely familiar…where could he've seen them? If only he had his glasses.

As if they'd been able to read his mind, both came to crouch next to him. "Oh, Harry," said a soft, female voice.

The boy blinked. Red hair, green eyes like his own… He knew where he'd seen this face: in the photos of the album Hagrid had given him.

"Mum?"

"Yes, my little one. Your father is here as well."

Harry felt his heart squeeze. This was so good…but why was he here, in this room? "Am I dead?" he asked weakly. His body still seemed painfully real and alive.

"No. But we are," James replied.

There was something in his voice that made Harry start. Reproach…

"I…I'm sorry," he offered.

"Sorry for what, my dear?" his mother asked gently.

"That you're dead. I would've really liked to know you."

"Us too. We were happy, you know," Lily said gently.

"I know… I regret not having more time," Harry murmured.

"We didn't have time either, Harry. We were twenty-one when he killed us. We wanted to live, we wanted to have lots of children. We loved each other, but it all ended that night…and you survived."

"Yes…" said the boy uncertainly. "I'll avenge you. I promise."

"What good is vengeance?" asked James. "We're dead. It's too late to change what was done."

"It was my fault, wasn't it?" asked the boy with a sigh.

"I don't know, Harry, what do you think?" Lily asked gently.

"If I hadn't been there, he wouldn't have attacked you."

"That's true. We could've lived long lives, had many children…normal children."

Harry's throat constricted. "I'm sorry."

"For what, then? For existing? Yes, you'd probably have been better off dying that night. But it appears you're special."

"I don't know…I don't feel special."

"No," James said doubtfully. "You're small, not brave or intelligent…hardly makes you worth it."

A third shadow came to join them, and Harry was able to recognize Sirius.

"I thought you were different, Harry. I thought you were like James…but James would've never let me die. I loved you, I considered you like a son, I would've done anything for you. And you? You killed me. Why?" he asked accusingly, his lively eyes wounded, full of anger and disgust.

"Sirius, no! I didn't want that! I'd do anything to have you alive again, I swear…."

"Apologies, pledges…. That's all you're capable of doing? You kill everyone around you, Harry! You let them die for you…and you, what do you do?"

The three voices combined to accuse him, but Harry didn't hear them anymore. He couldn't take anymore. Not Sirius, not his parents…not them, not this….

"Ask for forgiveness, Harry," James demanded.

"Get up and ask us for forgiveness," Sirius echoed implacably.

He would've never imagined his parents this way…never had Sirius looked at him like this. He wanted it to change, but he no longer had the strength.

Harry opened his eyes and stared at each one in turn, looked for encouragement or a bit of consolation…but he saw only the closed faces, and the cold and disappointed eyes of his parents.

Losing patience, Sirius stood with a disgusted look on his face, and kicked him viciously in the ribs. "You don't deserve for us to linger any longer…."

"No, please…don't leave me!"

"You can't even ask for forgiveness?" queried Lily sharply. "After all you've done to us?"

And Harry realized she was right. He couldn't. Not this way…something made him hold back, without his knowing why.

He closed his eyes, and when a Cruciatus finally hit him, he found his answer.

The vision of black eyes watching him, full of worry and still seeking to reassure him…. It was that expression that he should've seen in the three people surrounding him, and not this coldness and contempt.

And it was that glimmer that he held onto when the black once again invaded his consciousness.

There wasn't any light this time. He felt himself floating, but the darkness was total. He could only wait…

But the wait wasn't long. He felt his aching body drained of strength, his mind more and more befuddled.

He had enough strength, though, to lift his head, which he did reluctantly. He wasn't at all sure that he wanted to see what awaited him…

Bars. That was the first thing his eyes encountered, and it seemed as if his heart stopped beating. The old, so familiar bed where he was stretched out, the open wardrobe…he was in his room at the Dursleys!

No, not anymore. He'd escaped, and he'd been promised that he'd never go back again!

Footsteps rang out and he jumped. The sound of locks being opened… If only it could be…no, he shouldn't think of him.

Snape wasn't' there, he'd never again be there.

His Snape no longer existed; he hated Harry.

He'd never come back.

Harry shouldn't think of it, especially not….

The door opened wide, and Uncle Vernon's massive silhouette came closer, like a threat.

"Back again, eh?" he growled.

"No…" Harry answered. "No, I won't stay."

"Oh really? I'd like to see that," Vernon sneered.

"I don't' know what you want from me. I won't burden you…."

"Burden us, really? Do you think I called for those proceedings to get you back because of your pretty eyes, boy?"

"Proceedings…the trial? No, what happened…no, Dumbledore would've never allowed it!"

"That old fool had nothing to say about it. He was glad to get rid of you presence in his school. Even the freaks don't want you, hmm? Not surprising. Even to them, you bring trouble."

Harry felt his entire body begin to shake. He remembered well a scenario in Dumbledore's office, where the old man had been so disappointed, so furious, disgusted…he'd even hit him.

Hit? Dumbledore?

Yes. So much for them considering him a favorite.

And McGonagall…had cast a Cruciatus on him.

Oh Merlin, so it actually was true…they'd abandoned him, even they didn't think he was worth the effort. Even Dumbledore thought he brought trouble.

And he'd sent him back to the Durseleys.

"Why?" Harry murmured.

"Why what, little moron? Why don't they want you there anymore? You must know why, eh? Why did I make you come back here? For several excellent reasons, boy."

Vernon's snigger sent shivers down Harrys spine. Vernon screamed, shouted, laughed loudly, but snigger? That couldn't be a good thing.

"The first is that I've been compensated to do it. Someone who wants you to pay your debts, boy…like the rest of us, eh? Someone who thought I'd treat you according to your true worth. And believe me, after what happened with Dudley, I'd know how to accommodate you."

"Dudley?"

"My Dudley. My son. A tall, handsome boy, with great qualities…just the opposite of you, little rat! Even your parents didn't want you!"

Which wasn't false, Harry thought.

"Your so-called Dementors…they came back. They were looking for you. But it's Dudely they found instead of you," Vernon said softly at his ear.

Then he fell silent.

It was at that moment, it seemed to Harry, that something definitely broke inside his chest.

Dudley.

Insufferable, horrible Dudley, who'd been the dreaded obsession of his childhood…dead, or just as good as, because of him. Once again.

What could he say to that?

Nothing, especially when he saw a shadow come close to join Vernon: a figure that looked remarkably like him.

But as much as Vernon's eyes were full of fury and accusation, the new arrival's were even more so despairingly empty and lifeless.

Dudley.

Harry closed his eyes. He couldn't look at them anymore. He couldn't take anything anymore, full stop.

He heard voices, but he didn't listen

A hand shook him until he opened his eyes again, but only to close them instantly, just enough time to see the disgust and hatred on Aunt Petunia's face as she stroked the cheek of her dead son.

He didn't hearing anything more now. He didn't see anything more either. He felt someone removing his tee-shirt, but he didn't pay attention. When the almost familiar sensation of a belt striking his back registered, it was joined by another sentiment that was just as familiar.

He'd deserved it.

He'd have thought he'd lose consciousness much sooner, but it seemed that his body refused to let him sink into it again. He didn't know how long Vernon had been laying into him when the man finally decided it'd been enough.

Grabbing him by the arm, Vernon dragged him unceremoniously into the hallway, before hurling him down the staircase in the same manner.

Harry could've cried out, but not a sound came from his throat.

Through his dazedness, he saw a little door open in a tiny cupboard. Hadn't it been larger before? Had he simply grown?

Vernon literally threw him inside, and shot him one last nasty look. "You're never coming out of there. Ever."

With that, he slammed the door violently, and Harry could hear the sound of the lock as it was fastened.

This time, it was black, truly black. And so Harry was certain of one thing: whatever happened now, the light would never return.

ooooOOOOoooo

In the sitting room at Malfoy Manor, three very satisfied Death Eaters congratulated themselves over their cups of tea.

"I think we can now confirm that the boy presents no danger," said Lucius Malfoy, taking a mouthful of his drink.

"I've not had such a good day since the last battle at the Ministry," chuckled Bellatrix. "Oh no…I even think this one was much better! Potter is such an adorable little plaything!"

"Thanks to Snape's potion," Lucius agreed. "Credulo. It makes every situation real for the one in it. It's the first time that I've seen its effects, and I must say I'm impressed. The boy didn't seem to have the slightly doubt."

"Your dungeon deserves all the credit, Malfoy," Nott corrected. "Its effectiveness was incredible!"

"The equivalent of the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts," explained the master of the Manor. "Except that it only obeys its owner…and to a much greater extent."

Bellatrix nodded. "I really loved taking the place of that old cow, McGonagall. I always thought I'd look good in a bun. Wasn't I perfect in my role?"

"I think we were all convincing," Lucius said. "The Muggle's accounts concerning Potter were particularly useful. A cupboard…the Boy Who Lived In A Cupboard, it's to die for!"

"All our Lord's information was precious," said Bellatrix fervently. "He knows how to manipulate this stupid boy so well. It was so easy, it was pathetic!"

"That leaves only two things for us to verify," Lucius concluded as he took a biscuit. "Let's allow him to recover for a few hours…as soon as the sun comes up, we'll finish this little comedy. If all goes well, tomorrow at this time, the precious wizarding savior will become the Boy Who Succumbed Lamentably, and we, my dear friends, will become kings. Believe me, we will…"

The three Death Eaters let out the same confidant and satisfied laughs.

Tomorrow, the world will have changed….

A few stories below, the boy was lying on the ground, unconscious.

His mind was far away, but his body, in spite of himself, refused to abandon him.

He'd not felt the walls close in on him, he only knew that he was shut away, and that he'd never see the light of day again.

It was better that way.

There was no time…no people…no memories…just resignation, a bit of fear, and pain.

Nothing mattered now.

Nothing mattered.

When the door opened and the walls pulled apart, Harry thought confusedly that he shouldn't expect anything good of that… But he was indifferent to even that now.

A potion was forced down his throat, and he heard someone incant a _Rennervate._

His eyelids opened in spite of himself, and he automatically lifted his head up.

It was dark. He'd expected that. But he could still make out two figures in a corner of the room, two black, threatening figures….

The pain in his scar abruptly increased, and he recognized the presence.

Voldemort.

He took a few steps toward Harry, followed closely by the second shadow.

Harry recognized it as well now; he'd seen enough of him recently…Snape.

That was just as well.

"Potter… so here we are at the crossroads. They were all so confident, so proud of you…and look at you, not even able to stand and face me.

The soft, scornful tone of voice almost sounded like pity….

If he'd been himself, Harry would've probably looked for a scathing reply. But the time for that had passed.

Gathering his strength, moving a bit at a time, he finally managed to sit up, cross-legged, opposite the wizard who was looking him up and down, taking his measure.

Harry wasn't afraid.

Yes, perhaps he was going to die. But he thought maybe not. Simply dying would've been too easy now.

"So, Harry? This is it? You're going to let me kill you without a word, without a gesture for posterity?" 

The boy looked toward Snape. What was he supposed to think of the Potions professor? Friend or foe? He wasn't sure any longer. But whatever he was, Harry shouldn't betray him.

Without a word, Harry shifted his indifferent gaze to Voldemort.

"Are you waiting for help from Severus, my boy? It's a bit late for that, don't you think?" hissed the dark wizard with a laugh.

Harry didn't have the will to shrug his shoulders. His eyes fixed on the red ones; he was just surprised that his scar wasn't making him suffer more, as Voldemort was getting ready to kill him.

"Very good. No sense in going through the grand finale if Dumbledore's hero deigns not to participate. Ready, Harry? If you have a last great declaration to make to the world, now's the time."

But he didn't' have one. Contenting himself with holding his eyes steady, Harry thought that at least he'd not begged anyone. He couldn't struggle, or hide, and the insults he could've offered would've in any case probably not be included in the story.

So let him try to kill him and be done with it.

"Severus?"

"Yes, master?"

"Put his chains back on. Let him die like a prisoner."

The man nodded, and hurried to obey.

Harry didn't try to prevent him. What did it matter? Wasn't he a prisoner anyway? The request seemed strange though….

And Snape as well. He fastened the irons on Harry's wrists as tightly as he could, without a glance at the boy, without hesitation.

The image of the dark, worried look that he'd intercepted earlier struck Harry anew.

That look, that was his Snape. Not the person at his side at this moment.

From this person, whoever it was, he expected nothing.

When he'd made sure of the chains, Severus returned calmly to his master's side.

"The last moments of your short, unfortunate existence, Harry. And if I may add, totally useless and disastrous," said Voldemort amusedly.

On that, Harry wouldn't have disagreed.

The wizard with the reptilian eyes finally lifted his wand.

"Let's end this. _Avada…"_

Harry's eyes didn't waver, his shoulders didn't shake.

But the red eyes gleamed only with satisfaction, as the wand was lowered, the incantation unfinished.

An instant later, Voldemort's figure transformed into that of a more slender, blond Lucius Malfy, as Snape at his side took on the appearance of Nott.

"I believe we know all we want to know," said Malfoy with satisfaction.

"Our precious guest has no hidden power. We have here nothing but a pitiful, defenseless little boy. It's perfect, Potter. Tomorrow you will truly meet the Dark Lord. And your death, on the same occasion."

And with that, he left the dungeon, Nott at his heels, and the walls took their cage-like form again.

Harry took a moment to contemplate the idea.

So it'd all been an act. There was something deeper there…but Harry was too exhausted. He'd never been so thirsty in all his life. The healing potion that someone had made him drink earlier was starting to lose its effect, and the boy was losing his train of thought at the same time.

It wasn't important anyway.

Tomorrow, Voldemort would really be there. He'd finally finish him off, and it was highly unlikely that anyone would come to his rescue.

For a moment, Harry felt rather disappointed.

Just tomorrow. He still had to wait for that…

Letting the darkness take hold of his mind, Harry allowed himself a last reward.

For this last night, he permitted himself to take hold of the only thought that was still comforting, that of black eyes that called for him to hang on.

That of a gentle voice that called him Shadow….


	18. Chapter 18 Sound the Bugle Now

Chapter Eighteen: Sound the Bugle Now

At Nott cottage, the night had been long and trying. The silence, the red eyes, the sinister laugh echoing in the room…

Severus could almost hear the boy's cries. Actually, at one point during the night, he was even persuaded that he'd felt Harry's presence. He'd turned around, looking feverishly for some sign of him, and it'd seemed for an instant that he could see those green eyes that'd haunted him for so long.

He'd obviously been dreaming. From the anxiety and fatigue of having to continually Occlude his mind. But those eyes, full of despair, were too troubling for him to simply forget them.

If Potter died there, that look would haunt him for the rest of his life…a life that wouldn't last long enough for him to lapse into a depression, he thought.

If something didn't happen quickly…

As if in fulfillment of his wishes, a flash of green flames appeared at that very moment in the fireplace, and Lucius Malfoy made his entrance into the cottage, obviously satisfied.

"My Lord, we've done what you asked," he said with a bow.

The red eyes glinted furiously. "Come here, Lucius."

The man looked up and went to the Dark Lord, a slight trace of fear in his walk.

Without needing to hear the incantation, Severus knew immediately what the dark wizard was doing: a well-placed _Legilimens_ for the Death Eater.

A few minutes passed before he finally broke the contact. Then, turning toward Severus, he said, "I take back what I said, Severus. The boy expects nothing from you."

The Potions master bowed deeply.

"Lucius, you've executed your mission perfectly. I'm very pleased with your service…your choice of method has proven to be particularly wise. Leave him locked up without disturbing him today. I'll take care of finishing off his resistance. This evening, at nightfall, have everything ready for…what did you call it, Lucius? Ah, the grand finale. Yes, it will definitely be grandiose. Warn everyone that the ceremony will take place this evening. We'll need a specially chosen place, won't we? Severus, an idea?"

Severus felt his heart pound harder in his chest. "The Forbidden Forest would be ideal, my Lord. Right under the eyes of Dumbledore and all those imbeciles who defended his cause."

The Potions master saw a gleam in the Dark Lord's red eyes. "Interesting idea. But I'd prefer something more symbolic…Godric's Hollow. The cemetery at Godric's Hollow would be perfect. At nightfall. Lucius, have everyone gather there. You'll bring me the boy; tonight, we will have come full circle."

Malfoy bowed, oozing satisfaction. "Would you like me to prepare Potter, my Lord?"

"That will not be necessary, Lucius. Leave him in his dungeon, I'll personally see to keeping him company, in my own way. Simply make certain that no one comes near the Manor."

With a last gesture of reverence, Malfoy disappeared in a flight of green flames.

"Don't be frustrated, Severus," Voldemort said smoothly. "You will have your chance to play with the boy tonight as well."

Severus murmured a few non-incriminating words before going back to work.

He'd taken his chance, without much hope… Godric's Hollow? It was truly the last place he'd expected.

What could Dumbledore and the Order really do at this point? Were they counting on him to bring Harry back alive? He really, really had to have a word with Dumbledore about the Order's effectiveness and priorities. Because if Voldemort seemed reassured of his loyalty and the little hope that Potter had seemed to have in him, he still hadn't given Severus the chance he'd hoped for: to go and check on the state the boy was in.

No, the Dark Lord didn't fear for the life of the Boy Who Was Going To Die Anyway. The link that connected him to his mind was enough for him to know that the boy was at the end of his strength, but that he'd survive at least until this evening. No, it was unnecessary to give an energizing potion to ensure he was conscious during the ceremony.

What Voldemort needed was a Theft of Magic potion.

Severus chilled at the thought. Yes, he knew this formulation; he'd already prepared it. The Dark Lord knew this since he always kept a bottle of the potion on his person. But he'd need it fresh, potent, specially prepared for this evening, for his greatest enemy.

He wasn't going to be happy with just killing the boy; he also wanted to benefit from it: to take the power and strength that the boy'd stolen from him fifteen years earlier, thanks to his mother's sacrifice.

Yes, tonight, all would come full circle.

And Severus felt the weight of fate struggle within him. It'd be useless to claim to not have the potion; there were available reserves of it anyway. Impossible to weaken it as well; he could only make it correctly or fail to do so, because its inky blue characteristic color made it impossible to falsify.

Hiding his confusion as best he could, he threw himself into the brewing of the potion. And of another as well…one he had to do correctly, at all costs.

The one he had to slip into the boy's mouth when the moment came, before activating the Portkey. Just a few drops would be enough to make Harry take his Animagus form, and then, all that would remain would be to find a way to flee and escape Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and the wards. A walk in the park.

Thinking quickly, Severus tried to imagine a plausible scenario…and after all, yes, this Theft potion could very likely turn out to be useful. For it to be activated, and the powers transferred, the victim's blood had to flow, from the thief's hand or from one of his faithful.

He had to be the one. Ha had to claim this honor, in the name of his loyalty, to be the one to approach Harry and make him discreetly drink the other potion.

Then make use of the confusion in order to flee….

He sighed. Flee where, at what distance were the wards weak enough, how much time would they have? How much of a chance did they have?

He'd succeed. He had to succeed, even if it were the last thing he ever did…

Frowning, he bent over his cauldrons once again, the viscous fumes running down his face. He sighed. It was inescapable: whether he died or returned to Hogwarts a hero that night, it would be with greasy hair!

ooooOOOOoooo

The doors to the dungeon hadn't opened again in what seemed an eternity, and that was a good thing.

If it were possible, Harry would've greatly preferred not to see anyone before the end came. People…weren't good for him, and he wasn't good for them either. People made him hurt.

And yet, he didn't feel alone in this cell…it was too small for another person to fit in there, he knew. But he heard that voice…those noises…that laugh….

He preferred to focus on sensations: mostly the thirst he felt, the pain in his arm, his ankle…oh well, everywhere, really.

But the voice became more and more insistent, whispering words he understood without really grasping them. A voice hissing in Parseltongue, like him….

"Harry…do you have regrets? Have you understood now?"

Harry stiffened. He didn't have the strength to speak, but it wasn't necessary: after all, the voice was in his head.

"Understand what?" he answered.

"That you can't defeat me. That you've never had the power to do it."

"Probably," Harry answered a moment later. "But I would've tried."

"And what good would it've done for you to play the hero? You've lost everything: your family, your friends… You're alone, and no one believes in you anymore."

"I never asked them to believe in me. I only wanted everything to be…normal."

"And is it normal that you're here now, alone and wounded, in the bottom of a dungeon, without anyone to rescue you? Is it normal that you're getting ready to die for them, who've done nothing for you?" murmured the voice.

That wasn't exactly right, Harry thought. But he was too tired to think clearly.

"Yeah, that's probably fair," he finally said.

"You're wrong, Harry. Things could've been different…if you'd listened to me, if you'd come to me."

"Come to you? For what? To kill and torture Muggles, and lord it over wizards? " In his mind, he almost found the strength to laugh at this. Join Voldemort…the idea was somehow quite grotesque and funny.

"We're one and the same, Harry. And we both want the same thing: for the world to finally be just and normal"

"I don't think we have the same ideas about justice and normality," Harry said through his dazedness.

"Perhaps you listened too much to that old fool Dumbledore's stories," retorted the Dark Lord.

But Harry no longer wanted to play this game. He was tired, so tired….

"Doesn't matter. Leave me alone. Or kill me, whatever you want," he sighed.

"Yes, I'm going to kill you…unless you want it to be otherwise. It's your choice, Harry."

"What choice exactly? Follow you, become like you? Not much in it for me," the boy ground out. He only wanted to be left in peace…a bit of peace before dying, was that really too much to ask?

"Things aren't always as black and white as Dumbedore makes them out to be. You still have a choice, Harry. Submit yourself to me, become my ally, and you'll no longer be alone. How could you be, with the link that connects us? Everything can still be different. Only you can decide," Voldemort finished calmly and soothingly.

To no longer be alone. But he didn't feel like he was. There was someone, somewhere…and it wasn't Voldemort.

Did he really think Harry would consider his proposition? It was utterly ridiculous…after all he'd done to him, starting with killing his parents.

The Weasley twins probably would've already come up with a half-million sarcastic come-backs, but he didn't have the strength for it. He took the simplest route. "Go to hell."

"So, Harry. You've made your choice."

The presence seemed to disappear for an instant, and Harry felt relieved. Then a huge sensation of cold swept through him, and as he tried to curl up a bit to warm himself, his scar suddenly seemed to split open in two on his forehead, sending an explosion of pain throughout his head.

Without knowing how, Harry found the strength to scream and bring his hands up to his scar, in a useless gesture to lessen the pain.

"Give up. Call me your Lord and I'll stop making you suffer."

"No."

"You're not a hero. No one is watching you. Give up now!"

"Never," the boy groaned in his mind.

"Never is a stretch of a word for the few hours you have left. That could almost become an eternity," the voice sneered softly.

Harry waited for the world to go blank, to lose consciousness again.

But that moment never came. The light had left, yes…but now, even the darkness wanted nothing more to do with him.

ooooOOOOOoooo

Studying the two bottles in his hand, Severus Snape thought that his profession had seldom so aptly reflected his life.

He held there the means to both save and lose the hero of the wizarding world, the only one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, if one believed an obscure prophecy.

One bottle to lose him, one bottle to save him. And he was going to have to use them both. Alternately Death Eater, professor, and spy—the duality of his existence was perhaps finally going to come to an end with these two potions.

To kill or to protect Harry Potter, his choice had already been made years ago, and he'd sworn once again sworn his faithfulness…with conviction.

Because he _had_ to right his wrongs. Because he owed it to Lily. Because it was the only solution…and because he was able to do it.

The sun dropped lower in the sky, and the Potions master knew that the hour approached. Before it was completely dark, their fate would probably be decided.

But the anxiety didn't intimidate him; he was eager to move on, anxious to have it over with. He didn't feel able to bear one more day in the company of his master, as he leant back in an armchair, his red eyes gleaming, murmuring in Parseltongue and laughing to himself.

Torturing Harry.

The more time passed, the more Severus wondered if there was actually going to be something left to save that night. After Lucius' handling, which Voldemort had qualified as having been particularly effective, the Dark Lord had spent the entire day undertaking the destruction of the boy's mind.

Would he even be capable of understanding what was happening, if he managed to flee with him tonight? Nothing was less certain…and in any case, Severus couldn't count on him to help.

Setting the inky-colored potion on the table, he carefully stowed the second phial next to Dumbledore's Portkey in the lining of his sleeve. The Dark Lord had scarcely paid attention to his work, and he hadn't had to explain the preparation of this second potion. Not that this would've been a problem…he would've by far preferred to draw the wizard's attention away from the boy for a moment.

Severus just about jumped when he heard his master abruptly get up and walk toward him.

"Is it ready, Severus?" he asked lightly, as he examined the potion on the table.

"Yes, my Lord. It will be perfect for tonight."

"I don't doubt it. Of course, Lucius will bring several extra bottles in case there would be a problem with the formulation of this one," said the Dark Lord, with a furtive glance at his Potions master.

"There won't be, my Lord. But of course, best to be prudent."

Voldemort looked at him piercingly, and finally hid the bottle in his wizarding robes.

"It's almost time. Take what you need."

Snape quickly took up his leather bag. The so familiar gesture suddenly seemed almost bizarre to him; it was perhaps the last time he was doing it…this bag would probably fall with him when….

No, he daren't think of it. Even if he Occluded with all his might, he shouldn't think of being able to fail tonight.

An instant later, he felt the familiar sensation of Apparition seize him, as Voldemort pulled him to his side, then on to the cemetery at Godric's Hollow.

The place was strangely calm, without being peaceful. How could that be? He somehow had the impression that the village, which stood only a few steps from the cemetery, had been deserted. Only for tonight?

He saw that Voldemort was slowly, almost reverently, drawing near to a tombstone. He had no difficulty guessing which one it was: the Potters' grave, where Lily lay… A violent wave of hatred swept through him as the Dark Lord smiled, reading the names engraved on the tombstone.

Yes, someone had to die tonight…but if it was up to him, it wouldn't be Harry!

Already, Voldemort had done an about-face, feet planted in the middle of a pathway, releasing the summons for his Death Eaters to come to him. It took but a few seconds to see twenty-some wizards appear, which constituted the Dark Lord's Inner Circle.

Quickly, they all positioned themselves in a circle, according to the pattern they all knew by heart.

Without a word, Severus went to stand to Voldemort's right, leaving a space between them for another Death Eater…the most faithful right-arm of the Dark Lord, one of the most dreaded as well, Bellatrix Lestrange, who was waiting with Lucius for the moment to Apparate.

On the other side of the circle, Severus easily made out the Animagus, who could've provided him with an excuse, were he to need it: Wormtail, in all his splendor, bent over and jigging with pleasure, his silver hand shining in the last rays of the sun.

What could he be thinking, here, just a few steps from the tombstone of those he'd betrayed? Severus wondered.

But Pettigrew didn't seem consumed by remorse. His tiny rat eyes flicked impatiently from his master to the tombstone, which had become the circle's center.

When all of them had found their place, and once again, not a thing moved in the cemetery, the Dark Lord finally lifted his voice.

"Here you are gathered once again, Death Eaters…among those most faithful to our cause, who will finally witness its consecration tonight. Here, in this cemetery that shelters the bodies of James and Lily Potter, I will finally bring this digression to an end, fifteen years of it, during which my domination was contested. Tonight, I will bring an end to the life of the one who is the cause of it…Harry Potter!"

An incredulous and enthusiastic murmur arose from the circle, and Voldemort smiled.

"In this very place where Lily Potter's sacrifice allowed her to almost annihilate me, I am going to take back what's mine by right, and thus finish off this mistake that bears the name of the Boy Who Lived. And you, my faithful Death Eaters, you are going to be rewarded," said Voldemort in a low, confident voice.

Once again, a murmur ran through the gathering.

"Today," concluded the Dark Lord, "I take back my power. And you, you will have his strength."

Raising his hand, he quieted all whispering in the circle, pointing at the Potters' tombstone with a finger. "Lucius, Bellatrix. How is our guest?"

At these words, Bellatrix burst into laughter of pure joy. She came closer, her gleaming eyes fixed on her master, a big smile on her face. "My Lord, we couldn't get a word out of him. But he's alive, and ready for to receive you!"

Voldemort bowed his head slightly and smiled at her.

Beaming with pride and maliciousness, Bellatrix went to take her place to the right of her master, without a look at Severus.

In the middle of the circle, Malfoy was firmly holding on to the boy, not to keep him from running away, Severus noted, but to keep him from falling.

"Have you followed my orders?" asked the Dark Lord.

"Completely, my Lord. No one's opened his cell door since last night. However…"

Seizing the boy by the hair, he forcefully jerked his head up, revealing his face to the onlookers.

"He seems to have been in good company," Malfoy finished.

Once again, a murmur swept through the gathering, but one of shock this time. Severus restrained himself from taking a step toward the boy. He didn't know what horrified him the most…

It would appear that the boy had been more than severely mistreated. His limbs stood out at bizarre angles in several places; he didn't seem to have the strength to stay up on his knees any longer, and his breathing was weak and irregular.

But his face was the most striking.

Without his glasses, his eyes appeared larger…or was it just his face that made them look that way? Because his eyes were empty, despairingly dull, without a glimmer of hope, or challenge, or contempt, or hatred, or whatever one would've expected to find there.

How many times had Severus ground his teeth when he'd seen that infernal gleam of insolence or mockery? He would've given anything to see them there now.

The boy seemed to make out the shadows around him, but had no sense of what he was seeing, his large green eyes staring at the emptiness. Between them flowed a rivulet of blood, falling straight from the reopened scar adorning his forehead.

Severus shuddered. How long had his scar been bleeding?

Probably since the Dark Lord had been weakening his mind with the persistence and subtlety that characterized him so well, he thought.

Again, the question: what actually remained to be salvaged? Wasn't it already too late?

He felt his hope waver. He'd never before felt such pity as he did now, in face of this lost and resigned expression…what was left of the wizarding savior?

It didn't matter. He would go on to the end of it, whatever happened.

Voldemort's low, ragged laugh at his side almost made him jump. One glance at the circle of Death Eaters confirmed that he wasn't the only one lost in the spectacle of Harry Potter, kneeling on the tombstone of his parents.

"Harry, do you recognize this place? Have you ever even been here?" asked the Dark Lord ironically.

But the boy didn't even seem to have heard him.

"No? You're home, my boy. Isn't it very generous of me to have brought a little lost boy home? I would've taken you to visit your house, but I'm afraid that it's now just a pile of stones. Be that as it may, you're more at home now, where you are. With your family. Your dear parents are only a few centimeters away, Harry, there, under your feet."

Once again, he got no reaction; not even a glint flashed through the boy's empty eyes.

"Tonight," Voldemort continued, "I'm giving you back to them. There where you should've been long ago, and now things will be put back in order. You'll no longer need your magic…or should I say _my own. _So, I'll be taking it back again…. Wormtail?"

Pettigrew stepped forward, bent over and quivering, and held out a silver knife to his master.

"The same knife that allowed me, several years ago in a different cemetery, to end Lily Potter's desperate sacrifice. Today, there will be neither combat, nor help from another world, nor evasion. That era is definitely over."

The sun was now almost below the horizon. Lifting the knife in the light, Voldemort let the rays play across the blade.

A bit of ceremony, Severus thought, but less than he would've expected. Evidently, the state Harry was in made all commentary superfluous…and any attempt to humiliate or subjugate the boy as well.

Pulling the phial of inky-blue liquid from his robes, the Dark Lord slowly approached the boy, whom Malfoy was still firmly holding onto. He had no trouble forcing the potion down the boy's throat, and with a brisk gesture, he traced a bloody line on the boy's forehead, cutting the scar he'd left there fifteen years earlier. Soon, a light gray mist began to escape from the wound, which then circled around Voldemort. Smiling, he took a deep breath, breathing in the surge of magic and strength that was leaving the boy.

Then, holding the phial in between the teenager's still apathetic eyes, he gathered a few drops of blood oozing out, joining the remainder of the potion.

The liquid instantly turned to mauve, bubbling furiously in the bottle.

Satisfied, Voldemort restoppered it and returned to his place between Bellatrix and Wormtail, both of them frozen in place.

Smiling, he addressed the Death Eaters again. "As you've been able to witness, each wound inflicted on Harry Potter will make me recover his magic. As for he who spills his blood, he will possess the boy's life, or what's left of it. You who have served me up until now, you will have the privilege of partaking of it, and by that action, of strengthening your bond with your master. Each in turn, you will use this knife to this end. When there's nothing more to take…."

With a solemn gesture, he lifted the remainder of the potion into the rays of the dying sun.

"Then, the world will belong to us," he concluded.

A bit ceremonial, thought Snape. A bit grandiloquent. But in a certain sense…oh well, he wasn't that eager to nitpick on the correctness of it.

The Dark Lord used his hands to play with the knife, grabbing it by the blade, and Severus' heart leapt. Bellatrix! He had to start with Bellatrix! That way, he'd be the second to have a turn, and he'd still have a chance to get Potter away alive!

It seemed that the wait lasted an eternity, but when Voldemort finally held out the silver dagger, it was to Wormtail at his left that he handed it off.

As the little rat-like man headed, chuckling, for the boy, Severus felt the hope within him slip farther away.

Twenty-three additional wounds: that was what Potter would have to survive, before Severus had a chance to get near him.

Once again, a little blanket of mist escaped from the cut that Wormtail had just made on the boy's shoulder, and wafted toward the Dark Lord. Then Pettigrew turned around, obviously relieved, and held the knife out to Nott. Who himself, a few seconds later, gave it to his neighbor.

Strangely, Snape noted, everyone seemed determined to wound the boy just slightly, only making a few drops of blood flow from the mild gashes. Had Harry's expression shaken them as well?

Still, when the turn came to a place left vacant, Severus believed that the cause had been lost.

Noting the absence of the Death Eater who should've been there, Voldemort turned nonchalantly to Bellatrix.

"Well, not a loss for everyone. Bella, you've greatly earned having a double ration."

And with a sinister smile, he offered her the dagger.

Seeing Bellatrix's look of pure adoration, Snape knew that the witch was going to show she deserved this honor. Advancing toward Potter with a sure step, she placed a hand on his forehead, and without hesitating, left a large slash on his throat that started to bleed profusely.

Eyes shining, she turned toward the Dark Lord, seeking approval. A reptilian smile and a nod rewarded her, and seemed to give her even more energy than that which she'd just stolen from her victim.

The dagger was on its way again, inevitably, but despite their master's approval, no other Death Eater seemed to try to imitate Bellatrix.

Finally, the dagger reached the place left vacant by Malfoy, directly to Severus' right.

Without a word, the next Death Eater carried the knife to him, and Malfoy broke into a cruel and sardonic smile.

Letting go of Potter's wrists, he turned around to face him, and without releasing his grasp from his hair, pressed the knife at the corner of his lips, and drew a grotesque half-smile on the boy's cheek.

Satisfied with his masterpiece, he finally let go, and Harry limply let his head fall, only a hand on the ground keeping him from collapsing completely.

Obviously delighted, Malfoy turned his back to him and went to take his place in the circle, handing Severus the dagger with a complicit smile.

Severus returned the smile, his eyes shining, and took hold of the dagger.

Malfoy was a sadist, but he'd just offered him an un-hoped for opportunity. He was waiting for him to complete his masterpiece; Severus was going to do exactly that… and in so doing, slip the potion into the boy's mouth.

For the first time in two days, luck, albeit slim, seemed to turn in their favor.

It seemed as if miles separated him from the boy. Unhurriedly, he crouched in front of him and, grabbing his chin, lifted his head. When their eyes met, it seemed to Severus that something deep in Harry's consciousness awakened…like a glimmer of recognition, an infinitesimal dash of hope that lasted only a second….

Lifting the knife, he took his turned to press it to the boy's cheek. Then, with a long-practiced skill, he quickly unstoppered the little bottle on the inside of his left sleeve, hidden from their eyes, and drained the contents of it through the boy's half-opened lips.

The dice were cast.

In a second, the boy lying in the center of the circle disappeared, leaving in his place a black cat that slumped into the grass.

Around him, Severus heard the gasps of surprise and a few shouts, but he didn't waste time by turning to see the Dark Lord's reaction: closing his eyes, he said a quick prayer to whomever could hear him, and holding the cat firmly against himself, he unstoppered the second bottle, activating the Portkey.

Then waited.

And waited.

A cry of rage forced him to open his eyes again and verify the inevitable: the Portkey hadn't worked. The wards erected by Voldemort were too strong, and the Portkey too old…

They were lost.

Severus Snape was perhaps a man without illusions, and without a doubt expected nothing more out of life. But he wasn't a wizard who'd give up in the face of a desperate situation.

Protecting the cat the best he could, he brandished his wand, and bent down to avoid the attacks that would surely be erupting shortly; he dashed forward, determined at least to break the circle.

He'd scarcely taken several strides when a hissing sound made him look up, and he noticed, unsurprised, Voldemort's red eyes burning with fury as he lifted his wand in his direction.

The last rays of the sun died in the cemetery, as he heard the wizard pronounce the killing curse. No, Severus Snape thought, however this story was spun, it'd definitely not been a good day to die…

But _Avada_ was never connected to a _Kedavra_, and all of a sudden, time seemed to slow, almost to the point of stopping. There, where the last streak of sunlight lay in the little village, something had glittered, catching his eye. Someone was sending him a signal…. How was it even possible for him to see it from this distance?

But he saw it. Or rather he saw _her_. Lily. Over there, in the ruins of a house, Lily was beckoning for him to come, and to hurry.

The revelation abruptly struck Severus: if anywhere near this place would be susceptible to skirting the wards erected by Voldemort, it was the Potters' house, there where they'd given their lives to save their son.

All he had to do was get to her. All he had….

And suddenly time seemed to speed up, accelerating.

One look at Voldemort told him why the curse had never reached him: in the middle of the now-dispersed circle stood an enormous black dog with no more substance than a ghost, harassing the Dark Lord with all of its fangs bared, while a stag that seemed made of the same substance was wreaking havoc amongst the Death Eaters.

Without wasting time, Snape cast a temporary _Protego_ before continuing on, desperately making for where the ruins of the house had appeared.

Streaks of magic flew all around them, and it didn't take more than a few seconds for the Death Eaters and their master to gather their wits about them again.

"The traitor! Kill the traitor! Bring me the boy!"

Needing no further encouragement, the Death Eaters who'd overcome their fear took off after him, hot on his heels, and despite his protective charms, Severus felt a throbbing pain spread through his shoulder.

Clenching his teeth, he hunched down and picked up the pace a bit, throwing several spells randomly. A shrill laugh behind him informed him of the author of the attack: Bellatrix Lestrange was finding another way to prove her loyalty.

But the Marauders seemed just as determined to repay their debt to their former victim, and save the life of their protégé. Doubling their efforts, they managed to buy several precious moments for the fugitives, sowing confusion amongst the Death Eaters.

The village seemed to be miles away; he felt the cat's heart beating feebly as he held it in his arms.

The house! He saw it now. Out of breath, refusing to look behind him, Severus ran as hard as he could for the ruins in front of him, within range now, a refuge where he could perhaps hope to get them out of this nightmare.

His eyes were clouded by the blood from a wound he'd not felt; he started to feel hope again. He couldn't fail, not now, it was only a few more steps….

"_Animagus revelio."_

The spell had been cast at his back, but it didn't fail to find the right victim.

Before he had time to react, Harry had retaken his human form and collapsed to the ground when Severus was unable to hold him up, just a few meters from the threshold of what had once been his home.

Carried by his momentum, Severus stumbled over the boy's inert body, avoiding a spell that grazed his arm. Regaining his balance, Severus pushed at the stone door. The wall. The house. He'd just crossed the threshold without realizing it.

_"Rennervate. Imperio."_

Glancing back at the spot where he'd just come from, he saw the boy stand up in spite of himself, and head in the Dark Lord's direction. Swearing under his breath, Severus lifted his wand and, seeing his former master, shouted, "_Expelliarmus!"_

But a laugh answered him when the spell bounced off the wards, missing him by just a little.

Severus blinked, and the revelation hit him full force. He'd left the outside perimeter of Voldemort's wards when he'd entered the Potters' house. And he could no longer go back, now that his betrayal was known.

And as he watched powerlessly, Potter tottered along with the most unlikely of gaits, wobbling on his broken ankle toward the Dark Lord.

He had lost. All was lost: Lily's sacrifice, Shadow, Harry. He couldn't let him go, not now!

"Harry!" he shouted, and it felt as if all the accumulated despair of the past fifteen years was contained in that name. "Harry!"

Against all expectations, fighting the Imperius and the linking of their minds, Potter managed to turn his lost eyes toward him, tinted now with a huge question.

Riveting his eyes to the boy's, Severus tried communicate through them all he'd hidden from Voldemort. His worry, his hope, his regrets, all that he wanted the boy to know, no matter what happened.

Something in his expression must've reached Harry, because his eyes became more focused, as if he'd suddenly just recognized him. Two steps away from the Dark Lord, it seemed as if the sight of Severus had given the boy hope again.

Still, they had lost. There were lost.

Without breaking their connection, Severus shouted once again the only name that came to mind at that moment. "Shadow!"

Somewhere in Harry's mind, it was if a switch had been thrown. The black eyes…he knew this expression. He'd seen it in that vision, that man who was worrying about him, who told him with a simple look not to give up…it was him. It was thanks to him that he hadn't been alone.

It was his Snape. He was going to save him, and they were going to go back to the house…to the house.

An instant afterward, a black cat fell into the grass, incapable of keeping to its feet; it tried to crawl toward the Man in Black, over there, so far away…

Behind him, the other wizard let out a cry of rage, and the cat felt his threatening presence as he came closer to him. He curled in on himself a bit, but even so, he didn't stop creeping forward. He had to concentrate on Snape. There he'd be safe. He knew it. It was the Man in Black who was telling him so.

But even without him being aware of it, the last of his strength left him, and he collapsed in the grass, without hearing the laugh that accompanied his fall.

Out of the dark wizard's reach, he finally discovered that the darkness truly wanted to welcome him…

ooooOOOOoooo

He'd believed it. For a moment, he'd believed it a miracle: Harry had transformed, right in front of his eyes, when he'd called him Shadow. Breaking the link that connected him to Voldemort, he'd tried to come to him under the stunned expression of the Dark Lord.

Severus was so very proud of him.

But the cat, no more than the boy, didn't have the strength to go the distance that separated them, and at that moment when he'd collapsed again, Severus Snape stopped believing in miracles.

He simply closed his eyes so he wouldn't see what was going to happen next.

But curiously, nothing happened in the seconds that followed the collapse of Shadow, along with his hopes, and Severus opened his eyes again, only to realize that once more, he'd been wrong on the matter.

There truly _were_ miracles, and this one, for once, was directed at him.

The wind that'd been blowing a few minutes before had stopped, and the leaves in the trees swayed slowly…much too slowly…

In front of him, Voldemort and Shadow were still there, two figures frozen, just like in a Muggle photo

The only movement in this setting was the pale silhouette of Lily.

Slowly, she passed by Voldemort without even a glance.

Then she knelt beside Shadow, and with all the tenderness and care of a mother, she gently gathered the inert body of the black cat into her arms. She stopped for an instant to look at him, an infinitely sweet look on her face, then got up and headed towards what had once been her house.

He eyes fastened onto Severus'; she walked tranquilly toward him, without paying the least attention to the world around her that had abruptly stopped. Gently cradling the cat, she smiled, a bit sadly, no doubt, but determinedly.

When she halted a step away from him, Severus realized he'd held his breath since the moment she'd first appeared.

"Lily…."

But with a shake of her head, the young woman, who'd eternally be twenty-one, made a sign for him to be silent.

Then, like she would've done with a newborn, she stepped forward and held the cat out to him. Without thinking, he took it carefully and settled it comfortably in his arms, as he'd so often done at the Manor. The cat was still breathing, he noted, and his heart was beating weakly.

Looking up again, he searched Lily's eyes.

She was smiling outright now, and tilted her head to the side, just like she always did when she was happy.

She didn't tell him to take care of Harry, she didn't wish them good luck. She didn't need to. But her lips moved slightly, and Severus thought he could read there, "He's yours now."

Taking a step backward, she left the house, her feet barely brushing the ground.

Behind her, a dog and a stag were calmly waiting in the midst of the Death Eaters frozen in time.

Before Severus had the time to realize, Lily made a small gesture of goodbye, and her hazy silhouette evaporated at the same time as her companions disappeared.

Suddenly, the leaves were rustling once again.

Leaping up, Severus didn't take time to gather his wits. With one last look at the enraged red eyes seeking out the cat where it'd disappeared, he seized the Portkey in his sleeve and unstoppered it again.

This time, he felt the familiar hook snag him behind the navel and pull him backwards; he tightened his grip on the cat as they disappeared.

At that moment, Severus knew he'd just kept his promise.

They were going to get out of this. They were going home.

_Thank you to all the wonderful reviewers ! You just make my day :-)_

_I must admit that the few coming chapters are going to be... well probably not what people were expecting, because I lost a lot of readers then, in the French version. Howerver, though there might be a few boring chapters, I can assure you that there is still a long way to go ( 39 chapters so far in French ), and that there will be a lot of good things after that ( well, if you liked the story so far !)_

_So please, don't give up on me, and I hope you liked this chapter ;-)_


	19. Chapter 19 That Night

Chapter Nineteen: That Night

The world took shape around them again, and Severus instinctively bent down before casting a _Protego_, prepared to face another attack.

Merlin only knew where that old fool Dumbledore had planned to land him fifteen years earlier… But one look around was enough to reassure him.

Staggering slightly, he righted himself, standing in the midst of the portraits watching him, intrigued. A fire was burning peacefully in the fireplace, and from his perch, Fawkes greeted them with a rustling of wings.

Dumbledore's office—where else?

With a sigh, he turned his attention to the still-unconscious cat in his arms.

He'd got it right—the Portkey had been fooled by Harry's Animagus form.

Without losing any time, Severus searched for a pulse…if Shadow tolerated superficial wounds better than Harry's human form, then obviously it didn't bode well for these. His heart was beating weakly and irregularly.

Severus only hesitated for an instant. The transformation would exhaust the boy a bit, but…he was out of time. "_Animagus revelio!"_

Groaning, he slid the bag from his wounded shoulder. It had survived as well, in the end. The same thing couldn't be said for the potions on the inside…most had been destroyed by the Death Eater curses, or by knocking against the tombstones as he'd tried to escape from the cemetery.

Severus feverishly rummaged through the bag to find a potion still intact—finally!

He examined the boy lying on the rug. His pallor was frightening, and he'd lost much too much blood. His heart seemed to be faring better in this form, but….

One knee on the floor, Severus sat him up slightly. Rubbing his damaged throat, he tried to make him swallow a potion.

"Harry, listen to me, one last effort, you have to swallow this. Harry, try to stay awake for a moment. One more minute."

But that had already been a losing battle for many minutes now.

Cursing his broken phials, Severus was getting ready to fall back to what he considered his last resort when it came to healing—spells—when the sound of a door being shut made him swing brusquely around, wand in hand.

"_Protego!"_

"Unnecessary, Severus. Thank Merlin, you're here…how is he?"

The familiar voice resonated like a gong in the Potion's master's mind. Dumbledore was here. This time, they were truly safe.

But he couldn't rest yet. Harry still wasn't out of the woods.

"Poorly. Where's Pomfrey? He needs healing immediately; my potions didn't make it through the fight," said Severus, still holding onto the boy.

Frowning, Dumbledore murmured several incantations in Harry's direction. The wounds stopped bleeding immediately, and his breathing became more regular. Without wasting time, the Headmaster threw a fistful of Floo powder in the fireplace and plunged his head into the flames. "Poppy! We need you right away; bring all that you need and join us in my office! Quickly please, Poppy!"

His tone brooked no delay, and in a few moments, the nurse came through the fireplace to stand in the Headmaster's office.

"Really, Albus, wouldn't it be simpler to…Merlin!" she squealed, as she noticed the figure on the rug. "I thought that…what's happened to him?" she asked, casting a diagnostic charm.

"Just about everything, I suppose. All they were able to imagine, in any case. I made him drink an energy potion, but he's lost a great deal of blood."

"And he's not the only one," Poppy concluded, with a severe look for the professor. "Several broken bones, dehydration, contusions, exhaustion, and especially the effects of Cruciatus. And that's just the half of it. Make him drink this," she said, handing several phials to Severus.

While the nurse cast the first of a series of healing spells, Severus did his best to make the boy swallow the potions.

"His heart rhythm is better, but he doesn't seem to want to regain consciousness," she said, her voice more anxious that Severus would've liked.

"He's exhausted his strength. He's going to need plenty of sleep, in addition to continuous care," Poppy said.

"I'm sorry, Albus," the Potions master finally said, looking the Headmaster straight in the eyes. "I wasn't able to act until the very last moment. He spent two days with Lucius, Bellatrix, and the Dark Lord. By the time I succeeded in getting us out of there, it was too late to minimize the damage. I'm afraid his physical condition will quickly become the least of our problems."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to answer, but the witch was quicker; she had things to say as well.

"Severus Snape, you're incorrigible! The boy is in good hands; I'd be grateful if you'd save your mea culpa until later, and go straight away and put yourself in your usual bed in the infirmary, instead of soaking the Headmaster's rug with blood!" she bellowed, her expression belying the harshness of her words.

Severus didn't know whether he should feel shocked or angry.

"It's nothing, just a shoulder wound, courtesy of Bellatrix."

"And another to your head. And another to your leg. And that's only what your robe permits me to see. I suspect the only reason you wear black is to hide the extent of your wounds!"

Severus groaned. What a time to critique his choice of wardrobe. Had he really been wounded several times? He hadn't been aware of it.

"I think Poppy has summarized the situation well. It's out of the question to reproach yourself for anything, my boy. You've pulled off a remarkable feat, and it won't be kept in the dark. Might I presume that your career as a spy has come to its end?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus nodded. He was going to have a great many things to tell, and he felt fatigue cloud his mind as the tension he'd had to maintain recently finally fell away.

Still supporting the boy's head, he checked his pulse and breathing again. He seemed less pale now, his features more relaxed. The road ahead for him was going to be a long one, before he'd be able to feel normal again…if that were to happen one day.

"You can leave him, Severus," said Poppy Pomfrey more gently. "He can be moved now; I'm going to take him to the infirmary."

"No!" Severus cried, a hand on the boy's forehead, startling the nurse.

"Albus, the situation is complicated; we're going to need all available wards. No one can know where Harry is! It won't be long before they know anyway, but we must buy some time." He frowned, looking up at Dumbledore.

"Albus, would you have a Pensieve? I'm not certain I'll be able to accurately relate everything that's recently occurred. A Pepper-up Potion or two wouldn't be untimely. In any case, the Dark Lord wasn't content to just torture Potter. He sought to destroy him in every way, more particularly by stealing his powers. We were treated to another of those little ceremonies Voldemort seems so fond of holding in the middle of cemetaries . I prepared a Theft of Magic potion that he used on the boy.

"You know these potions, Albus. They transfer the magic and strength of one wizard to another. Voldemort used it to reinforce his connection to the Death Eaters. He couldn't kill Harry without ending the ritual at the same time. He has three days left to finish it. I don't need to tell you what that means…."

"Voldemort and his henchmen are going to do all that they can to finish with Harry in the next three days," Dumbledore replied calmly.

Severus nodded. If Poppy could only go to collect the potions in his office….

"You have nothing further to worry about, my boy. Rest. We're going to watch over both of you."

The Potions master groaned again. Did he seem like a teenager in need of protection? On the other hand…. "Potter is staying with me," he said, looking the Headmaster in the eyes, and challenging him to disagree.

A gleam sparked in the Headmaster's eyes, and he nodded. "Very well, Severus. Harry will remain with you."

And it seemed to the Potions master that as usual, Dumbledore had understood more than he should've from Severus' explanation.

ooooOOOOoooo

Severus had only a confused recollection of having traveled through the fireplace to return to his rooms.

Nothing had changed since his departure at the beginning of the holidays; still, it seemed as if something about the familiar rooms was different…and that was before Pomfrey decided to add a bed to his room for Potter.

They were there, now, in the dungeon, safe in Dumbledore's keeping; he had to remind himself that everything was all right. But everything really _wasn't _all right….

Beside him, he could hear Harry breathing, who still hadn't regained consciousness. Regular, still wheezing a bit. The throat wound that Bellatrix had inflicted was still oozing, even after Pomprey's attention, as well as the grotesque smile that Lucius had tried to draw there….

Severus shook his head. He wasn't at all certain about pushing the boy to wake up. That empty, hopeless expression the boy'd worn during the ceremony. What could they've done to him? He was acquainted with the limitless imaginations of the Death Eaters when it came to torture, and Voldemort had seemed particularly pleased with Bellatrix and Malfoy.

There was only a week left until the start of term. Would Potter be in any shape, even physically, to attend classes?

There were still things to come before that day arrived. He was under no illusions about the fact that if Voldemort had to pull out all the stops, it would be in the next three days, and the Death Eaters would've never been more motivated than they were now. Hogwarts was well-protected, Dumbledore saw to that, but the entire affair had proven that the wards weren't infallible.

If only he could find an antidote to that potion, then perhaps…

Frowning, he arose from his chair and opened the door leading to his private library. Perhaps he could find something…on the defense against the dark arts shelf, of course.

Behind him, he could hear stealthy footsteps.

"I seem to have heard Poppy tell you to rest while she went for the potions in your office, Severus?" Dumbledore said.

"Which is the only reason why I myself am not brewing fresh potions," retorted the Potions master. "I suspect that woman of possessing coercive methods vastly superior to those of the professors in this school."

"You're wounded and too exhausted to realize, my boy, but I think it truly wiser for you to put off your reading until later." The tone of voice was definitely that of the Headmaster this time.

Severus groaned, pulled a book from the shelf and began to leaf through it. He was never too tired to brew a potion; it'd been years since he'd been trying to instill this notion into his students' heads.

"I'm the one who brewed that potion, Albus. I must find a way to neutralize its effects…or at the very least shorten its duration. Which I would've done from the start, if I'd only had a chance to—"

"Severus." The sharp voice made him look up. "You did all that you could. Now, if you want to help Harry, I need to hear your report. I'm still having trouble believing that the Portkey worked after all these years. It would seem…yes, I was very negligent towards both of you. I owe you both an apology, and doubly to you, Severus," Dumbledore sighed.

The Potions master frowned. "It's best not to leave Harry alone," he said, gesturing with his chin toward the door.

Dumbledore nodded, and without a word, he returned to sit in the bedchamber.

"I'll admit that several details of this affair escape me," said Snape. "How was Harry able to be kidnapped by Lucius? At the Ministry, no less?" _And in your keeping_ his expression clearly communicated.

The guilt-ridden look that Dumbledore gave him was enough to quell Severus' growing anger.

"There's no explanation other than the one you've thought of, Severus. I was not sufficiently vigilant," replied the Headmaster. "Harry was by my side while I discussed the details of the interview with Cornelius Fudge…I didn't see him walk away. I don't know why he wanted to leave; he seemed very troubled by what'd happened at the Manor just before our departure."

Severus ran a hand across his face. He was really feeling tired now. "I know. It's all my fault," he sighed.

He felt a hand on his arm.

"It would seem Harry's had an influence on you," Dumbledore said gently.

Yes, thought Snape, that was for certain this time; Potter had _really_ had a bad influence on him.

"He didn't react as I'd hoped," he explained. "At least not the result I expected. Voldemort took advantage of the weakness I'd created in Potter's mind, to control him and push him into Lucius' hands. That took only seconds and he tried not to attract any attention. I don't know why all of a sudden the insufferable brat took my words to heart," he finished with an annoyed gesture that reawakened the wound in his shoulder.

What was Pomfrey doing, then? An official inspection of his office?

"Here's the beginning of the story," Dumbledore sighed. "It would seem that with the best of intentions, we both failed Harry. It's clear now that I should've never agreed to the hearing. But let's move on. Were you there when Harry was taken to Voldemort?"

Snape nodded. "At Malfoy Manor. I was the one who should've been at the Ministry, if I had responded sooner to the summons." With another gesture of irritation, he swept the idea aside. The whole affair was a huge fiasco from start to finish. Or almost had been.

"Something aroused the Dark Lord's suspicions when Lucius retuned with Harry. I was able to buy some time, but I was not permitted to stay with the boy. I'm ignorant of what they could've done to him during those two days…when next I saw him, he was catatonic. He didn't react, he didn't seem to see anything around him. I thought he'd recognized me when we came face to face, but I might've been wrong. There's not much about those two days of which I'm certain," he finished.

"Be that as it may," said Dumbledore," I'm relieved that the Portkey worked despite the wards."

"It didn't work," Severus replied tersely.

"I'm not sure I understand…"

"You heard me. It didn't work. Not until we were outside the perimeter of the wards. And believe me: It was a long way," he said ironically.

Dumbledore studied him for a moment, incredulous. "Do you mean to tell me that you fled with Harry Potter, right out from under the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters? Alone?"

"A fairytale to make Gilderoy Lockhart green with envy," Snape sneered. "Yes, I snatched Potter right in the middle of a Death Eater gathering. And no, I wasn't alone. Definitely not alone." For a moment, he played with a long lock of his hair, hesitating over what he should say. Or believe. In reality, he didn't want to relate that episode… Lily… That moment belonged only to him…and to Harry.

He shook his head. There was no place for sentimentalism here. There had never been.

"The Marauders' last stand, I suppose one could call it," Severus murmured.

His eyes met the undecipherable ones of Dumbledore. "You're right, Severus; perhaps a Pensieve would be useful," he said gently.

Snape allowed himself a slight smile. He couldn't be cross with the old man for finding it confusing. He himself wasn't entirely certain of what'd happened that evening.

At that instant, the door opened and Poppy Pomfrey burst in breathlessly, loaded down with potions. "Albus, I believe there's something you should see," she said with a pointed look at the Headmaster.

"Poppy?" he answered.

"Really. Professor Snape, if you'll take these potions yourself, this one as well, and make Potter swallow the rest of them. Now, Albus, if you'll follow me?"

With a last look at the Potions professor, Dumbledore fell in behind the nurse and left.

Finally alone, Severus let out a sigh of relief. First things first…Harry.

Seated on the bed, he sat the sleeping teenager up, taking care not to worsen his wounds. One by one, he emptied the potions down the boy's throat, murmuring words of encouragement that he knew the boy couldn't hear.

When he laid him carefully back to the bed, the boy seemed less pale, but his emaciated features and the multiple marks scattered over his body left no doubt about the state of his health.

The professor pursed his lips. All he could do now was wait…and brew potions.

Grimacing, he finally decided to take off his robes and the shirt sticking to his skin, soaked with blood. Bellatrix had definitely had the upper hand, but Poppy was right, he could feel his body burning in different places. Swallowing the potions in single gulps, Severus got out clean clothing and quickly applied some cooling charms to himself.

All things considered, he'd managed to get off very lightly. An interrupted _Avada Kedavra_ and not a single Cruciatus…the week had almost been a calm one.

Sitting again, he undertook an inventory of what he'd just consumed. Blood-Replenishing Potion, Wound Healing, Painkilling Potion. That old bag had forgotten the Pepper-up! Did he have to do everything himself?

And what was Dumbledore up to? Fatigue was beginning to gain the upper hand, and he didn't want to leave Potter unattended.

Before he had a chance to leave on the search for other potions, the door opened and Dumbledore appeared. One look at the Headmaster's face was enough to confirm what Severus suspected.

"The Dark Mark?" he asked tonelessly.

The wizard nodded. "You and Harry are no longer safe here, not as much as I'd like. All will be fine for tonight, but tomorrow, we'll have to hide you elsewhere. Lucius Malfoy has his ways into Hogwarts, and with the support of the Ministry, I cannot guarantee that he won't manage, one way or another, to become a threat, even here in the heart of the castle.

Severus nodded. In danger at Hogwarts…he'd never had this feeling, and paradoxically, the solution was simple.

"Snape Manor is protected by the Fidelius Charm. We will be out of reach there," he proposed.

Once again, Dumbledore sighed. "History repeats itself," he murmured, his eyes suddenly older by ten years.

Or younger by fifteen, Severus thought, which, now that he thought about it, looked about the same.

"I know you must be tired, and Poppy asked me to make sure you drink this Dreamless Sleep Potion," he continued, "but before that, I would like to hear the end of your story, Severus, if you have the strength. And if it's all right with you, I'll bring a Pensieve."

But the Potions master had straightened, indignant. "That woman has no common sense at all if she thinks I'm going to sleep while Hogwarts is being threatened by Death Eaters! I have a potion to brew, and the sooner it's finished, the sooner Potter will be out of danger. As much as he can be, in any case. This boy's always got problems."

"Severus," the Headmaster replied calmly, "how long since you last slept?"

Snape swept the argument away with a wave of his hand. "That's why Pepper-up Potion was invented. Unless you have another Potions master handy, Albus, I don't see another solution; and in any case, I was the one who made that potion. I would've thought your protégé's life more important to you than that," he said bitterly.

"Your life is just as important," replied Dumbledore, slightly startling the professor.

"My life is not in danger," Severus answered, avoiding the Headmaster's eyes.

"I know you take Harry's health very much to heart, Severus, even more so since this summer. But you've lost a great deal of blood and you're out of strength, whether you admit it or not. You must rest; we're all going to need you, Harry in particular. You're of no use at all in the state you're in."

Dumbledore's tone of voice, even more than his words, made an impact on Severus.

Emptying his lungs, he fell back in his chair, his hands on his knees. "She confided him to me, Albus. Lily. She's the one who saved us. Everything was over; we no longer had a chance, but she made one for us, she succeeded in freezing time and carrying Shadow to me so I could use the Portkey. She carried him to the house to put him in my arms."

When he looked up, Dumbledore was looking at him again with that impenetrable gaze.

"Severus…whatever happened tonight…I've no doubt about what you believed you saw, but Lily is at most a ghost now, the pale reflection of what she once was…"

"You don't need to remind me," Severus growled.

"What I'm mean to say, my boy, is that if Lily were there tonight, and I truly wish to believe that she was, it's not impossible that she was able to play with time.

"But for her to carry Harry? That's impossible; you know very well that ghosts have no real hold on our world," he finished.

"Still, she did it," retorted Severus. "I couldn't leave the house; the wards prevented me, and Shadow was nearly thirty meters from there. Lily froze time, took Harry in her arms, and carried him to me."

"The house at Godric's Hollow, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

Realizing the Headmaster hadn't understood a word he'd said, Severus made an irritated gesture toward the Pensieve. "Give me that," he grumbled. "Let it be done with, and I can finally get to work on this bloody potion."

"Severus," Dumbleedore replied, his eyes hardening suddenly. "Finding an antidote for the Theft of Magic Potion will very likely take you months of research, and its effects on Harry will have dissipated well before that. Now, all you can do for Harry and myself is to put the entirety of you memories in this Pensive and then sleep! Is that clear enough for you?"

Severus frowned as he stiffened in his chair; he'd not abandoned one tyrannical master, only to end up with an authoritative Dumbledore.

But now that he thought about it, the old wizard wasn't wrong. Severus was deluding himself if he hoped to find an antidote tonight…and the healer in him knew that he needed sleep more than potions.

There was still another good reason for him to refuse to sleep now.

"I want to be here when Harry wakes up."

"I will stay here," Dumbledore replied, softening. "I'll come and warn you."

"No, you don't understand. I want to be here, the moment he opens his eyes. It's important."

Dumbledore gave him a questioning look, but then he could only shrug. If the man didn't understand, Severus wasn't going to explain it to him.

"Done," the old wizard gave in. "In any case, I'm going to need to study your memories."

Severus nodded. Taking the Pensieve, he lifted his wand and began to gather all his memories of the past two days.

When he finally handed the basin to Dumbledore, he suddenly felt lighter, and ready to succumb to sleep.

"Thank you, Severus. You've been a great help. I'm sure Lily would agree."

Frowning, the Potions master shifted his gaze to the boy who was still sleeping soundly.

He had to know. He wanted to see the boy's eyes when he awakened, to be certain that the lost look he'd worn in the cemetery had only been a passing illusion.

And from the time he regained consciousness, he wanted Harry to know that he was no longer alone. That Severus would never leave him again.

Afterward, only afterward could Severus sleep.

While Dumbledore immersed himself in his memories, Severus transfigured his armchair, and settled in at the boy's side, pushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

Outside, the Death Eaters were skulking around the castle. The Death Eaters, to whom Severus would never again belong.

ooooOOOOoooo

He'd given his all, up until the very end; he'd given all his strength and he'd not realized it was failing him.

He only knew that he had to wait for the Man in Black, and that a creature that wasn't a man stalked him from behind, ready to kill him.

And then the blackness. Softly and soundlessly, he'd slipped into unconsciousness. Then something had glittered, and he felt himself floating, and everything around him was white. That was what he'd seen.

She had long hair, a smooth face and her eyes as she looked him were both gentle and sad.

"Everything will be fine."

He wanted to believe her. All around him, the world had burst apart like a shattered mirror. He no longer remembered exactly how, but he knew he was more alone than ever.

"He'll take care of you," she said, pointing to a far-off figure.

The Man in Black.

Yes, his Man in Black was there…he'd come, just as he'd promised. He'd saved him.

Something warm surrounded him, and he saw the young woman's face move away.

"Everything will be fine now, my baby. Everything will be fine."

Then the blackness again.

And the voices…

"They're all dead, Harry. Because of you. All dead. You'll never be sorry enough…."

The blue eyes pursued him, even in the blackness.

"Pathetic, Potter."

Dumbledore…He'd come after him. Hit him. McGonagall too….

"Why, Harry?"

He didn't have an answer. There'd been nowhere to hide...wherever he went, they'd find him. Vernon was dragging him out of his cupboard, belt in hand. Sirius was looking at him scornfully, evicting him from Grimmauld Place.

The Burrow was destroyed, and the dead bodies had nothing to say to him, but their pale, lifeless faces, in the midst of the smoking ruins, accused him without saying a word.

Hogwarts. The castle had been his home since he'd arrived. But Hogwarts was Dumbledore's school, and now, the old wizard's hate for him persisted, and he refused to be in Harry's presence.

He understood them. After all, even his parents hadn't wanted him….

_Crucio._

And Bellatrix was laughing…laughing….

And the knife kept slashing at his skin…

ooooOOOOoooo

Snape had allowed himself to fall into a semi-sleep, his eyes half-open, but the boy's agitation woke him completely.

Harry was moaning in his sleep, his hand weakly gripping the sheet.

Bending over him, Severus put a hand to his forehead. The boy had a fever. That was something to think about.

"Harry, do you hear me? Everything is fine, you're at Hogwarts. Calm down, you're safe."

His voice seemed to instantly calm the teenager, but not enough for him to open his eyes. His skin was damp and his breathing irregular.

"Albus, could you stay with him for a moment? I have what's needed in the next room."

The Headmaster nodded and went to the bed, then took the boy's hand in his own. "There, there, my boy, everything will be fine," he took his turn to murmur.

But unlike with Severus, his words seemed to alarm the teenager even more; he began to kick out with an energy ten times his usual strength, trying desperately to get away from the Headmaster.

In the blink of an eye, Sevuers was beside him. "Harry, everything's fine. It's only Professor Dumbledore…we're here, no one will hurt you," he promised, with a hand on the boy's forehead to hold him in place and keep the wound in his throat from being made worse. Frozen, he seemed to be in the grip of a dilemma.

"My boy, you're at Hogwarts, safe and sound," Dumbledore added calmly, patting the hand he'd let go.

Soon, Harry was struggling again, evading the Headmaster's touch.

Seeing the blood soaking into the sheet, Severus rapidly scanned the boy's wounds: several had reopened due to his agitation, and were bleeding again. Without hesitating, he wrapped the boy in his arms, holding him against himself to keep him still.

"Quiet. Quiet there, Shadow. Everything is fine, I'm here, no one will hurt you, I'm here," he murmured at Harry's ear.

The boy moaned but relaxed his arms, letting his head fall back to Severus' shoulder.

Severus slightly loosened his grasp and ran a hand through the boy's hair. "There. That's very good, you're safe, I promise you."

Continuing to stroke Harry's hair, he murmured a quick spell to clean and re-close the wounds. Especially his throat had suffered from his abrupt movement. He was going to need Scar-healing salve.

Lifting his head again, he suddenly remembered the Headmaster was there, and couldn't help but blush slightly.

But one look at Dumbledore was enough to reassure him; far from the mockery he expected to see there, it was a glimmer of sadness that passed through the old man's eyes.

"Albus, could you go to my office and get some salve? A white jar, on the shelf…and some fever potions and Blood-Replenishing ones as well. You won't have any trouble recognizing them, I think."

The old man nodded and left without a word.

With him gone, Harry seemed to relax a bit more. Sitting back on the bed, Severus was thoughtful. How unaware was the boy? Was it really possible that….

Dumbledore once again crossed the stoop into the room, and it seemed to Severus that the boy tensed.

"Fever potion, please," Severus said.

The Headmaster held out a red-orange phial that Severus carefully put to the boy's lips, supporting his chin with his other hand. "Harry, please, do it for me, you must swallow this."

The boy moved his head slightly, but didn't otherwise react.

"Severus, do you want me to help you?" Dumbledore proposed.

He'd barely spoken when the boy became agitated again, and the Potions master had to tighten his grasp to keep Harry from hurting himself.

Groaning, Harry seemed to want to both flee from the Headmaster's voice and hide against Severus, who was holding him against him.

"Albus, I believe it'd be best if you stay away," he suggested, reflexively stroking the boy's arm to calm him.

Reluctantly, Dumbledore withdrew to the other end of the room, his step heavy.

Severus thought it particularly ironic to see Precious Potter hide against him to get away from the Headmaster, but he didn't quite experience the triumph that he should have.

Harry'd been afraid of Dumbledore…the wizard whom the boy had always seemed to consider as a sort of too-indulgent grandfather, accepting only the Headmaster's and McGongall's authority; here he was now, dreading his presence….

What could Malfoy and Lestrange have done to him, then?

Shaking his head, he took the potion he'd placed on the bedside table. After all, it'd be easier to hold his head this way. "Drink, Harry, this is for the fever. Very good. This is for your blood, now… That's perfect."

Come to think of it, he'd never showered the boy with so many compliments in five years of class. But things were different now. This was his cat. His boy.

It was his turn to swallow hard. Very well, he'd said it, or at least thought it. Because yes, it was how he thought of him. For the first time in a long while, he'd found a real reason to keep on fighting, and he wasn't going to abandon him. He wanted it this way…and Lily did too.

And speaking of Lily.

"Albus, did you find what you wanted to see in the Pensieve?" he asked the Headmaster.

The man nodded. "Your conduct was positively heroic, my boy," he answered.

Severus groaned. What was the old fool thinking now? He'd done nothing more than what he'd done so many times before…and it'd taken him two days to save Potter.

"As I told you earlier, I owe you my apologies," Dumbledore continued. "I should've long ago given you a new Portkey, a more powerful one…and I should've foreseen that circumstances might require that you carry a passenger. I almost caused both of you to be lost, it's unforgivable."

Severus sighed; if this night should turn into a group therapy session, they'd never get to the end of it.

"Albus, we all made mistakes, myself first and foremost. The important thing is that Harry is safe now. Did you see…"

But the name remained lodged in his throat.

"Lily?" Dumbledore finished for him. "Yes, I saw her." Under the professor's glittering eyes, he went on, "There's no doubt about the fact that Lily and the Marauders definitely came to your rescue, Severus. I'm still not sure I understand how all that managed to unfold…but in more than one sense, I believe that we've come full circle."

"You don't think she'll be coming back again?" Snape asked quickly.

"I think Lily finished what she came here to do," Dumbledore said gently.

The Potions master didn't reply, but caught himself stroking the boy's hair again.

"You were also correct that Lily brought you Shadow, as you call him," continued the Headmaster.

Snape shot him a look, a mixture of exasperation and satisfaction.

"However, she didn't carry him in the true sense of the word. You missed a detail, and considering the circumstances, it'd be hard to fault you for that."

"Might I know what it was?" Snape asked curtly.

"Just as I told you," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Spirits, ghosts and other apparitions cannot take hold of the physical realm. Freeze time for an instant, yes. Carry a body, even that of a cat, is unfortunately impossible. By the same means, the Marauders were able to frighten the Death Eaters, but not wound them physically.

"Lily used the same strategy that fist time she entrusted Harry to you, a few weeks ago."

"The bracelet," Severus murmured.

"Yes, the bracelet," Dumbledore confirmed. "Harry was still wearing it, and it's a good thing. Miss Granger deserves a medal for her find."

"She'll have it," Snape agreed thoughtfully. "I always thought that child was much too intelligent for her own good…at least as intelligent as Lily."

Dumbledore nodded. "Women have this way of knowing what's good for those they love." And seeing Harry with his face pressed against his professor's shoulder, Dumbledore didn't doubt it for an instant.

ooooOOOOoooo

He'd come…the one who'd thrown him out, he was there again, close to him.

Harry wanted to flee, but he couldn't manage it. It was like running through thick mud; he knew the man didn't want anything to do with him, that he'd done something bad, that he didn't have the right to be there, but what could he do? He didn't want to be hurt again…

And then he'd heard the other voice. The one he dreaded and sought at the same time. He'd sent the threatening presence away and then had talked to him.

What he'd said, exactly, he wasn't sure…but he was there. He was speaking softly, as if he were purring, and he was there, arms around him, to protect him.

Protect him? Really?

He knew that voice, it was the Man in Black's. The man who shouted at him in class, who hated him for what his father had done…and his black eyes glittered with contempt.

The same eyes that'd burned with worry just a few hours ago. Hours? Days? Weeks? Didn't matter.

No, what was important was…was this the same man? What was he supposed to think? Friend or enemy?

But he couldn't have a friend; they were all dead. They hated him, they'd thrown him out of everywhere….

Of everywhere except the dungeon. By the fire, the cauldrons were heating up, and the Man in Black was busy with his potions.

The Potions master. Snape. Snape hated him, he knew it. But he'd saved his life several times, and….

He'd let him stay at the Manor. He hadn't thrown him out.

Except when Dumbledore had come for him. Then he'd become the scornful Potions professor again, and had told him that he had to leave.

But Harry'd seen him after that, when Lucius had taken him away, Snape was there, somewhere; he was watching over him and waiting for the chance to save him.

That was really it, wasn't it? He couldn't hate him, not his Snape; it'd all been an act, a sinister comedy, but indispensable.

He couldn't throw him out. He was the only thing that'd held him together when the world seemed to fall in ruins around him, the only thing that'd kept him from going mad, from giving up. He would smell his scent, the comfort of his arms when he carried him, and the tone of his voice when he talked to him, the one he kept for Harry alone….

It had to be true.

For once, for one single time, something had to turn out right. He wasn't asking for anything more; besides, he didn't have anything else.

Bit by bit, and in spite of himself, he felt himself being pulled from this emptiness that was both frightening and comfortable, in which he'd bathed for what seemed like an eternity. H could hear the fire, the sound of breathing close to him, and that scent that was so familiar.

Summoning all of his will, he finally managed to open his eyes, blinking to make the world a bit less blurry.

When at last he could make something out, the first thing he saw was Snape's face, his features drawn, bending over him, and those black eyes brimming with worry, watching him, almost fearfully.

Then Snape spoke, just two words. "Forgive me."

And with the slightest of smiles on his face, Harry Potter closed his eyes again.

_thanks to Raewhit for the translation ;-)_


	20. Chapter 20 In The Shadows

Chapter Twenty: In the Shadows

_It was hot and suffocating. There was something in the air that made the night electric. A storm? No…maybe. That light in the distance, he recognized it; that house, he'd seen it before. But he wasn't the only one making for the door; ahead of him, a furtive shadow was already opening it. A large black silhouette, two red gleaming eyes… No!_

_The room, there was still time, he wouldn't let him do it; from within, James Potter shouted for Lily to save Harry, and she was there with the baby, much too fragile and defenseless…_

_No._

_Already the steps echoed in the stairwell, and he brandished his wand, standing between Lilly with the baby and the man who'd just appeared, his red eyes glittering like they always did when he came to kill. When he was going to kill._

_No!_

_But the scene froze, and a hand came to rest on his own, lowering his wand._

_He turned his head reluctantly, knowing in advance what he was going to see. The dreams were always the same, after all._

_Lily, so pale, she who was so full of life, and so peaceful as well, even though she'd screamed just a moment ago._

_She smiled at him._

_"It's too late."_

_No._

_He didn't want the dream to go on, not yet; he didn't want to see the smoking ruins again, Lily's lifeless body, on that night…and the stars sparkling as if the universe could still continue to exist._

_It was always too late…_

_He was there, though, in the ruins again. Not smoking, this time. The ivy had grown through the walls, and the furniture had disappeared. There was indeed a body, however, a teenaged body…and he was still alive. No, he didn't look all that much like James, seen from here, not as much as he'd always thought._

_And he wasn't too late._

_Raising his wand, he turned around. The red eyes stared at him, dissecting him. And in his turn, Voldemort lifted his hand._

_"Protego!" shouted Severus, positioning himself above the boy's inanimate body._

_The black silhouette was thrown through the wall, and melted into the night with a cry of rage._

_But the eyes remained there, glowing red in the darkness of the house's ruins, and Death Eater masks surrounded them, empty and threatening._

_"Always too late," hissed the wind…or was it a voice?_

_The masks began to rotate slowly around them._

_"Too late," they chanted, "much too late."_

_"No," he replied calmly. "You will not have him."_

_At these words, the pale faces became transparent, until they evaporated like steam. The red eyes lingered for an instant, then they, too, disappeared._

_The ruins weren't really there now, and the high perimeter walls of the castle surrounded them. Here, they feared nothing; they were under Dumbledore's protection. And yet, he could still hear the wind hissing, and a pounding at the walls. He lowered himself to better protect the body at his feet._

_"I have to go."_

_Go? Why? Where? _

_To protect him._

_"I have to go."_

_So, he would go._

Dumbledore's face was just above his own, so close he could almost feel his breath.

Severus jerked backwards, fumbling for his wand, before realizing where he was.

"Severus, I'm sorry to have to waken you, but you have to go."

Yes, he'd understood that. What time could it be?

"It's almost noon," Dumbledore answered his unspoken question. "I would've liked to let you rest much longer, Merlin knows you need it, but a delegation from the Ministry is due to arrive at any moment. It wouldn't be wise for you to still be here."

Severus groaned and tried to get up, but a weight on his chest held him down. With a glance, he identified it: Harry. Had they fallen asleep this way?

"Harry hasn't awakened since you yourself fell asleep," continued the Headmaster." "I've had some provisions prepared for you, and Poppy insisted on leaving you a supply of potions; she thinks they could be useful to you straight away.

"She did well," Snape admitted reluctantly. His own supplies had been very diminished lately.

Moving the boy to the pillow, he quickly examined him. He was still pale and his breathing was worrisome, but at least he seemed to have stabilized. He wouldn't have trouble transporting him, with the help of a few charms to keep him asleep.

There was still something indefinable that wasn't right about the teenager. Thinking for a moment, Severus murmured a rapid incantation.

In response, Harry began to radiate a weak, pale yellow aura.

"Albus, come and see this."

"A problem, Severus?"

"It's Harry. His magic is weaker than it was when we returned yesterday. The Dark Lord is continuing to steal his powers."

The Headmaster frowned. "I'm fairly certain that Voldemort has entrenched himself just outside in the Forbidden Forest. I don't know if that proximity is necessary; however, we've perhaps neglected a small detail: the connection that exists between their minds."

Severus pressed his lips together. "We're leaving. The further we are from that, the better. Albus, keep me up to date, send us supplies. I have what'll be needed to make potions on the spot. If Harry needs something in particular, I'll let you know."

"No need for me to remind you how dangerous it would be for you to leave the Manor, Severus? Your life is in as much danger as Harry's now."

The Potions master swept the argument away with a hand.

"I doubt that even Voldemort would dare penetrate your hideout, Severus," Dumbledore said with a smile. "The rumors concerning the protective spells gracing the grounds are the stuff of first year students nightmares."

"Only those in Hufflepuff, I'm afraid. That's never stopped certain Gryffindors," growled Severus.

Their eyes met, and it would've almost been easy to believe that the start of term was only a week away, and that it was just a matter of preparing for the students' return.

Almost.

Just beside them, Harry was restless in his sleep, and Severus leant over to place a hand on his forehead. Without a word, Dumbledore handed him the bags of provisions and potions; the Potions master took them and bent down to lift up the boy.

Definitely much too easily…

Harry in his arms, he headed for the fireplace. "Be careful, Albus On top of it all, we don't want to see history repeat itself," said Severus, his voice full of hidden meaning.

"I'll be in touch as soon as possible," Dumbledore reassured him. "In the meantime, you've nothing better to do than to rest. Make good use of it; start of term is only a week away!"

Severus nodded, thinking that this week strongly chanced being the longest of his existence. Between the Death Eaters and Harry…how was he going to react, once he was conscious again? After what had happened to him the last time he'd been at the Manor, he shouldn't expect to find Harry very enthusiastic.

Not to mention his reaction to Albus. There was something behind all of this that made him guess some difficult times lay ahead.

But one problem at a time. He nodded to Dumbledore, who threw a handful of Floo powder for him, then stepped forward into the fireplace without hesitation.

"Snape Manor!"

It seemed the boy flinched when he heard the name; tightening his grip, Severus stepped out purposefully into the laboratory he'd left several days ago.

Unlike his rooms at Hogwarts, the dungeon didn't seem to have changed. Not in the least. Especially now that Harry was here….

And yet…

He quickly transfigured an armchair into a bed and laid the boy there.

So, here they were now. The supplies would last for the next three days, and the potions shouldn't present a problem.

Rummaging in the sack that Poppy had stocked, he pulled out several bottles. Then, turning toward Harry, he ended the spells keeping the boy asleep.

"Harry?" No response. "Harry." He shook his shoulder slightly.

This time, his eyelids opened sluggishly. He blinked his eyes, his expression dazed, before he noticed the Potions master at his side. Frowning, he tried to gather his wits about him.

Snape. That smell…the dungeon. Really? Since when?

Hands helped him to sit up, and he didn't try to escape them.

"Drink this," said the professor as he pressed a bottle to his lips.

He obeyed without thinking.

"Very good. Another."

Three bottles later, he felt the world become blurry again, and lost touch with reality.

It wasn't important. In his dreams, he was in the same place, after all.

Severus watched the boy drop off to sleep again. Better that he fully regain his strength before being faced with his memories. On the other hand…Severus needed some time to think as well. Things had never before been so complicated; whether he had to hide information or recite the depths of his thoughts aloud, the end result was clear, and the means as well.

Spying and irony held no secrets for him.

Psychology, on the other hand, was a different matter.

It wouldn't have presented a problem if he'd had to manipulate Potter, but he wanted something else. He wanted the boy to understand.

Could he make a potion for that?

Perhaps. Most likely. There was a potion for everything. Except for the most important things, he thought bitterly. Like preventing someone from dying, or having his powers stolen from him.

But for the moment, there were more urgent matters to attend to. He had to build up a new stock of healing potions. He hesitated: should he take the boy up to his room?

He couldn't watch over him that way…and then, Harry had seemed to like the ambiance of the laboratory, he remembered with a slight smile.

Yes, the boy was perhaps repairable after all.

Pulling the coverlet back up to the boy's chin, he brushed the hair from his forehead. Life truly was ironic, wasn't it?

All because he'd taken in a cat.

He didn't know how he was going to resolve this situation, and get Harry out of danger, but he was going to do it.

And right away.

As it usually was when Voldemort wasn't there to watch him, preparing potions relaxed him considerably, allowing him to think on the situation.

The healing potions were the most pressing, but he needed to quickly stabilize Potter's magic. If it continued to drop despite their change of domicile…well, the situation would be serious.

He'd not wanted to think about it anymore while they'd been at Hogwarts, but

what would happen if the link between their minds truly allowed Voldemort to continue to draw on Harry's powers?

The answer was simple: short of killing him, he'd turn him into a simple Squib, and without magic, the boy would have no chance of fulfilling his destiny.

Severus felt his stomach knot. That idea, when one came down to it, wasn't all that unpleasant. Harry without power, without a prophecy, would be a Harry without the risk of getting himself killed from one moment to the next, wouldn't he?

He shook his head. It was stupid and ill-advised. And somewhat egotistical.

Lost in his thoughts, it took Severus several moments to realize there'd been a change in the boy's breathing.

He nearly jumped when he saw the two green eyes staring at him from beneath a frown.

Abandoning the bottle he was getting ready to fill, he went to Harry, who seemed even more agitated.

For an instant, the two of them stared at each other, the Potions master assuming his most neutral expression.

"This isn't real, is it?" the boy finally asked.

"On the contrary, all of this is very real, Mister Potter. Welcome back to the land of the living," Snape replied calmly.

"It's got to be a dream," Harry murmured.

"I can assure you that you're wide awake. Perhaps not in full possession of your faculties, however," said the professor.

"Sure, you'd say that even if you were a dream," the boy argued.

"That's highly likely, indeed. Is there something I can do to convince you that you're awake, or will you be content with just drinking the potions you need."

"You're supposed to shout at me."

"Really?" asked Severus with a slight smile.

"And I don't have the right to be here anymore. You never change your mind. It's still a dream… I'd really like to dream about something else. I think. For sure. About the Burrow, for example…no, not right away, it's too noisy there, I have a headache…or Hogwarts, then. No. I don't know."

Harry sighed and covered his head with his arms. "I don't know."

No, clearly he didn't know anymore, Severus thought. And that was a large part of the problem.

"There'll be many things we will have to talk about when you're better, Mister Potter. While we wait, just know that you're welcome here, and not only in your dreams. In fact, for the moment, it's even extremely inadvisable for you to leave the Manor. As for changing my mind, that's one of the things we'll be discussing. For now, rest, and try not to torture your mind with…whatever it is."

The boy moved an arm just enough to be able to look at his professor. His eyes seemed to have difficulty focusing, giving him that uncertain expression he'd worn so often recently.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why what, Mister Potter?" Severus replied. There were certainly a huge number of 'whys' to which he was going to have to answer.

"I don't know."

Severus sighed. "Try to sit up and drink this," he said as he held out a potion.

With difficulty, the boy tried to come up on his elbows, before falling back heavily to the bed.

Wordlessly, Severus slid an arm behind Harry's shoulders and lifted him, then gave him the potion.

Harry sighed. "What's this one for?"

"Nutritive potion. I doubt you're in any shape to eat just now," the professor replied.

Harry drank the potion without a protest. Then, looking at the Potions master again, he asked, "Why?"

Severus sighed. "Why what this time, Mister Potter. This little game risks quickly becoming irksome for everyone, you realize."

Silence, then, "Why arm I here?"

"Ah, a pertinent question, I must say. Primarily for your protection, Harry, and to allow you to recover from your injuries. Does that answer your question?" Severus asked, not very hopefully.

"I'm not sure. No, not really," said the boy.

"As eloquent as ever, I see. Very well, elaborate on your question."

"I…I shouldn't…I know…" Harry stopped.

"What do you know, Harry?" Severus insisted gently.

"I know you don't want me here," Harry let out, frowning as he waited for the professor's answer.

Severus sighed. _Now we get down to it._

"Potter…Harry, certain things are definitely not what they seem to be. Recently, the situation has been particularly delicate, requiring more…acting on my part than I would've liked."

"I don't' understand," Harry answered.

Which wasn't very surprising, Severus admitted to himself.

He swallowed visibly. "I told you I regret what happened, and I did believe that. My attitude toward you, although arising from good intentions, had been misguided and inappropriate, as the facts demonstrated," he said, hesitating over the dignity and degree of sincerity the statement required.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd so openly and sincerely made such an apology, and he didn't intend to repeat the experience for a very, very long time.

"I still don't understand," Harry said. Utter confusion was clear in his expression. "I don't remember…or I thought that…oh." He seemed to come to the answer on his own, evaluating the last of the information.

Severus waited patiently for the boy come out of his reverie and pay attention to him once again. "I'm truly sorry for all that happened. The circumstances surrounding your capture are actually to a great extent my responsibility. Wanting to sever the link that allowed the Dark Lord access to your mind, I in fact reinforced it," he explained.

"Oh," Harry said.

Severus raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of it.

"I…I'm sorry," the boy took his turn to say. "I'm not sure I understand. No, in fact, I'm fairly certain that I don't understand. But that's really not important, is it?" he finished in a breath.

"How so, Mister Potter?"

"You have the right to hate me, just like the others. Like before. Well, even more, I suppose." Harry sank back to the bed again.

"Precisely what others are you speaking of?" Severus asked. At this rate, the enigmatic conversation could last for days without them getting anywhere….

"I don't know. Everyone," Harry sighed, curling up on the bed as if to go to sleep.

"Might I know what gives you the impression that _everyone_ hates you, Potter?" Severus persisted, raising his voice. Out of the question for the boy to fall asleep with that on his mind….

But Harry didn't open his eyes again, content to snuggle a bit more into the coverlet. "I just know it, that's all. You too, in spite of what you say…what I think you're saying…doesn't matter."

"Potter," Severus said again, feeling his patience drain away. "Harry. Having seen the reactions of both the Headmaster and Madam Pomfrey when you reappeared after your little adventure with the Death Eaters, I can assure you it's completely firm that these two people, at the least, do not hate you. And I can assure you with an even greater certainty that I do not hate you either," he finished gently.

But Harry had already fallen asleep, his face contorted.

Severus sighed again. His explanation had clearly not had the effect he'd hoped for.

When the boy began to struggle in his sleep, he decided that the potions had to wait. If he were ever to see the day when he'd succeed in reassuring Harry, he was probably going to have to start with his subconscious.

Seating himself more comfortably on the bed, he pulled the teenager against him and began to stroke his hair to calm him. After all, that worked well with Shadow.

Dumbledore had been right about his lack of sleep, because the Potions master awakened several hours later without remembering having fallen asleep.

Beside him, something was moving. Harry, obviously, fighting in his dreams.

"No…please…I didn't want that…."

_That's for certain_, Snape thought.

Severus shook him gently by the shoulder, saying, "Harry, wake up. Potter. It's a dream."

The boy convulsed brusquely before freezing, his eyes once again unfocused.

He really was going to have to find him a pair of new glasses.

"Potter? All right?" No answer. "Potter?"

"No."

But something in that 'no' made Severus think that it wasn't in answer to his question.

"Harry?" he tried.

"No."

_Hmmm._ "Shadow?" murmured the Potions master.

The boy seemed to relax, pushing his forehead against Severus.

Oh, Merlin, Severus thought. This really wasn't the way he'd planned on approaching things…no, it really wasn't.

Come to think of it, the strangest part of it yet was that the boy hadn't transformed into the cat.

Struck by a premonition, he cast a quick diagnostic charm. The pale aura surrounding the boy made Severus turn pale as well: the level of Harry's magic had dropped again, leaving him a weak reserve.

He held back a wave of panic; he shouldn't worry Harry, but he had to do something…

"Harry? Harry, wake up."

The boy groaned and moved slightly.

Effortlessly, Severus lifted him and propped him into a sitting position, his head lolling back an forth. "I didn't want that. Sorry," grumbled the teenager.

"You didn't want what, Potter?" Severus asked, at the same time casting a series of spells.

"To kill them. I'm sorry."

"Who, then, this time?" Snape couldn't help but ironically ask.

He regretted his words right away as he saw Harry withdraw into himself.

"Harry…" he sighed. "You didn't kill anyone. I don't know what's making you think the contrary, but no one in the vicinity has recently died, and certainly not because of you."

His first spells began to show their effects. He'd not been mistaken, the boy was continuing to lose his powers, little by little. He could distinctly make out the halo of light mist leaving his body, a bit at a time, especially more concentrated around the damnable scar which adorned the forehead of the Boy Who Couldn't Manage To Live Or Die.

As for stopping that flow….

"He knows it. They all know it," Harry burst out abruptly.

Severus frowned. "You'll permit me to be the exception to that rule, Mister Potter. Enlighten me."

The boy grimaced, but didn't answer. So much for the academic approach, Severus realized. "Harry, explain it to me. Please," he added. At the point where they now were, politeness was a lesser evil.

"I…my fault. All dead. Dumbledore said so. I saw them," Harry finally said, his voice ragged.

He was once again huddled up, his head between his knees. Neither truly awake, nor truly asleep, Severus realized.

At all cost, he had to find a way to keep Voldemort from continuing to suck out the boy's powers; but in this state, Harry was quite simply an open door….

What could Dumbledore have wanted to say? Most likely, nothing, but Harry thought otherwise…

"What did Dumbledore say, Harry?" Severus began again patiently, fighting against the urge to just simply use Legilimency on the boy. In his current state, that probably wouldn't do much good…

"Disappointed. All dead. My fault. Couldn't ask for forgiveness…no."

Shocked, Severus stared at the boy's contorted face. What the devil was he talking about? He'd not left Harry since they'd returned, and he was very certain that Dumbledore have never said such a….

Unless…

"Who's dead, Harry?" he asked softly.

"The Weasleys…Ron…Ginny…Hermione…Remus…everyone…."

"And when did Dumbledore tell you this?" Severus insisted, struck by a bad feeling.

"In his office. With McGonagll. Furious…he hit me."

And that would explain Harry's reaction to the Headmaster. Severus was beginning to have a vague idea of what Lucius and Bellatrix could've thought up to torture the boy.

"Harry," Severus started slowly, "do you remember when you found yourself in the Headmaster's office again?"

"Afterward."

"After what, Harry? After being taken by Lucius Malfoy?"

Harry nodded.

"No, you must listen to me now; that never happened…Harry, listen to me. After you left Hogwarts, you were at home first, at Privet Drive, then you came to Snape Manor. Do you remember that?" the professor patiently asked.

Again, a nod of Harry's head was his reply.

"You were at Grimmauld Place as well. Then at the Ministry. That's where Lucius kidnapped you." He paused for a moment so the teenager could digest what he'd just told him. "After that, you stayed at Malfoy Manor. Two days. I met up with you again in the cemetery and we were able to escape. We went back to Hogwarts, to the Headmaster's office."

Under the effect of these images, Harry tensed up all over again. The office…Dumbledore…

"There were several people in that office, but you were unconscious, Harry. Professor Dumbledore was there, as well as Madam Pomfrey and myself. The Headmaster was very worried, we all were. Poppy took care of you as best she could. I made you drink some potions, and we retired to my rooms in the dungeon. Harry, at no time did Professor Dumbledore try to injure or accuse you. Minerva McGonagall wasn't there. That scene you have in your head never happened," he finished.

But for all of that, the boy still hadn't calmed down. Shielding his face with his hand, he struggled with an invisible enemy, fighting to stay conscious.

"It was true," Harry finally said after a short internal debate.

"No one died," Snape said calmly. "The Weasleys, Miss Granger, Remus Lupin and the other members of the Order are quite well. You'll see them soon. The last person around you to die, Harry, was Sirius Black. Just before summer, at the Ministry. Long before your kidnapping. All that was just a macabre act to destabilize you."

The boy moaned softly, but he didn't relax.

"You could see them soon, I promise you," said the professor.

"You're lying," Harry murmured.

Severus ground his teeth, but he couldn't be cross with him. "No, you can write to them as soon as you'd like, and you'll be seeing them very soon. The term starts in just a week. Everything is fine now," he said with all the reassurance he could muster.

"It's over…" Harry said. "Never again..."

"No," Severus agreed, "no one will hurt you anymore. You're safe."

"That's false," the boy said hoarsely. "No more magic. No one. It's over."

It was one of those rare times in his life when Severus felt helpless. What was he supposed to do to reassure the boy, who was only half-conscious? The urgency of the situation pressed him to act quickly, but he didn't want to stress him even more.

"Harry, whatever happens, I can promise to never leave you alone, and to protect you the best that I can. But now, you have to trust me…listen to me, do you feel up to Occluding?"

The magic was continuing to escape the boy in spurts. Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it quickly.

But Harry didn't' seem to be listening to him anymore. Captive to his nightmare, he shivered and sweated as if he had a fever.

If only he had some Animagus potion in his stocks. Pomfrey hadn't thought of that. Leaving the boy alone for a moment, he hurried for an empty cauldron and rapidly prepared the ingredients. I would take hours for it to be ready, but he couldn't not try. Quickly checking the other potions in progress, Severus went back to Harry, who seemed to be in a trance.

"Potter." He took the boy by the shoulders and forced him to face him. "Keep trying. This isn't the time to give up. You have to close your mind, now!"

At the sound of his voice, Harry opened his eyes and looked at him, confused and frightened.

"That right, look at me. Don't let him steal your powers. Focus, push him out!"

Harry seemed to experience a surge of willpower, but he probably didn't have enough energy: his head fell back to his chest and his breathing became raspy again.

Clenching his teeth, Severus took hold of him gently by the chin and forced him to look up. "Open your eyes. There. You have to help me, Harry. For now, become Shadow again; I know it's hard, but it's the only solution!"

The boy's eyes widened, a gleam of hope in the depths of them.

"Shadow," Severus repeated, in the voice he reserved for the cat. "Be Shadow."

The boy stared at him, as if he were desperately looking for something in his face.

"Harry," Severus insisted, "transform now! Remember, focus on the image that helps you change into the cat. You do it so well!"

The teenager's hung his head limply into his hands.

"The cat…try, Harry…the armchair, the bowl, the fish, the fire…the towel, remember that day, the shower under the downspout, transform, Shadow, you must!"

But his pleading was in vain, and he knew it. Even if he'd been able, the boy's magical reserves were quite simply insufficient.

Summoning all of his energy, Severus concentrated on erecting the best wards he could around the boy, calling on white magic as much as on black, murmuring incantations learnt years ago.

All in vain. Neither the potions he forced him to imbibe, nor the spells he wove around the boy, managed to stop the magical flow that continued to escape through his scar.

The boy's color paled at the same time as the magical aura around him. He was barely struggling now, lost in the feverishness of a troubled sleep, while Severus became more and more agitated over him.

The sun was just about to set when the Animagus potion finally achieved its characteristic violet color. Wasting not a moment, Severus filled a phial, then sat Harry up in the bed. Voldemort couldn't access Harry's powers in his cat form; if Severus could keep him that way during the three crucial days, they would've saved….

Tipping the boy's head back, he poured the liquid down his throat, and waited anxiously. The potion had only taken a few seconds to work the last time, but in his current state, it might take longer….

A minute passed by without any change. Then another. Severus felt his grip on the boy's shoulders tighten.

When five minutes had gone by without any transformation, the Potions master knew he'd failed.

It was too late. The level of the boy's magical reserves were too low for the potions to have an effect. A few hours earlier, perhaps…

Harry's skin was almost freezing to the touch. The spurts of magic that Severus had made visible continued to escape, but now they were only the last vestiges of the boy's powers. Before midnight, there'd be nothing left of them, and he couldn't do anything about it.

The sun set on the Manor, and Sevuers cast a tired glance at the dungeon window where he'd first noticed Shadow. What he saw there made him freeze, and he couldn't help but stay close to Harry, in a vain attempt to protect him.

Outside, above the Manor, the Death Eater Mark glowed in the sky, brighter than ever.

He knew. He was there, outside, as close as the wards allowed him…

One look at Harry was enough to calm Severus. Eyes wide open, the boy was staring at the same place in the sky, glassy-eyed.

He knew as well. Along with his strength, his magic was leaving him, and with them, probably, the last of his hope. Severus didn't recall having seen such resignation in anyone's eyes before, and certainly not in a child of sixteen.

With a sigh, he went to sit on the bed, beside the boy. "I am sorry," he murmured for the second time since they'd returned. "There's nothing I can do. He won't be able to enter here, but I can't stop him from taking your powers. I've tried everything," he apologized.

Harry didn't look away from the window, but he moved slightly toward the professor, as if seeking comfort from him, without completely daring to.

Powerless, Severus did the only thing left for him to do. Without looking away from the Dark Mark either, he wrapped the teenager in his arms, giving the only protection he could offer him.

Harry allowed him to do it, perhaps too weak to protest, Severus thought.

"I'm truly sorry," Severus murmured, stroking the boy's hair. "I didn't think we'd come to this point so quickly. He can't come close to the Manor, but that won't keep him from stealing your powers. Whatever happens…I won't leave you. With or without powers, we'll find a way, and it's not important. That really isn't important, all right?"

A faint moan answered him, as the boy's head rolled against his chest, his eyes squeezed shut, so as to not see anything more.

"It's not important, child. You don't need magic to be who you are. You're going to get well. Everything will be fine," Severus heard himself say, and part of him wondered how he was able to find the strength to speak such insipid words, and even more, to think them.

But he was tired. Much too tired and drained. The teenager he held against him like a little child, even more so than Severus was.

He was right. All of this wasn't important.

Laying a hand on the boy's forehead, he pressed him a bit more tightly against himself. If the boy had to touch the depths of despair, he wouldn't be alone.

Harry trembled slightly, but he didn't push him away. His eyelids firmly shut, he clung to his professor's robes with all his might.

In turn, Severus looked away from the Mark glowing in the sky, to the teenager.

Then he began to sing, soft and low, stopping to repeat phrases he wanted the boy to understand. He wouldn't abandon him. He'd always be Harry Potter, even without magic, and no one would think less of him. He'd always have a place at Hogwarts, and at the Manor, for as long as he liked. No one had died, no one was cross with him. They'd find a way to work everything out.

And in the end, everything would be fine.

He didn't know if the boy would end up believing him, or if he could even hear him, but his own words served to calm him at least.

Because finally, he'd been persuaded to believe them.

Harry must've ended up falling asleep, because the hand firmly holding on to his robes had relaxed, and the boy's face appeared almost restful now.

Something had changed…

Severus felt his heart speed up. He slightly spread his fingers, still pressed against the boy's forehead, taking care not to wake him.

It was indeed that. The flow of magic had stopped…but even more surprising, he could see that a reserve of the boy's magical energy remained, very weak, of course, but still present. The halo was almost imperceptible, but it was there…

And Harry seemed to have also regained his color.

Severus moved slightly to better see the boy, who opened his exhausted eyes. "Shhh, Everything's fine," Severus said without removing his hand from Harry's forehead.

"It's nighttime..." the boy said softly.

"Yes, the sun won't be up for several hours."

"No, it will never come up again. No more light," Harry said, laying his head down on the professor's chest again.

Severus held back a sigh. He'd already thought of that himself. But not anymore.

For the first time in a long while, he had a real reason to fight.

Even if he had to go look for the bloody sun in China, it would come up. Since Harry needed it to….

Desperate situations truly did call for desperate measures, he thought decidedly. Things would probably seem different by the light of day...when it returned.

Whatever had happened, Harry was sleeping now, and the slight mist that embodied his powers was floating around his fingers, near the boy's scar.

It was no longer escaping, and it even seemed now that it was attaching itself to Harry's skin, as if to flow back in.

Perhaps all had not been in been in vain in the end.

After all, the best potions were never the simplest to prepare.

* * *

_A lot of thanks to RaeWhit for the translation of this chapter ! And of course to all the wonderful reviewers that sent lovely mesages for the last chapters! I can't wait for you to read chapter 22 and tell me what you think of my idea! But ah... wait and see ;-)_


	21. Chapter 21 Dancing in the Haze

Chapter Twenty-one: Dancing In the Haze

When the sun finally came up, Severus was still humming the same refrain. Fearful of breaking the fragile balance that'd allowed Harry to conserve his magic, he'd not budged the entire night.

He didn't know if the boy'd finally fallen asleep; he hadn't moved, and his breathing had become regular, but his body still seemed rather tense.

Through the window, Severus watched the sky as it slowly changed color.

They'd made it through the night. His spell, still active, showed him that Harry hadn't lost anymore of his magic. His reserves were low, but not exhausted.

It was time to make him drink some potions. Severus gently extricated himself, laying the boy on the bed. He saw his eyelids flutter, but he didn't make a move to sit up.

Stretching, Severus was thoughtful as he took a few steps in the laboratory. What had actually happened last night? He didn't believe for an instant that Voldemort had stopped draining Harry's powers. Something had stopped him, most likely Harry himself, but how?

A remnant of magical mist still flitted around his scar, hesitant. Taking the necessary potions from Poppy's stores, he returned to the boy.

"Harry…wake up."

The teenager carefully moved one limb after the other. Lifting his head, he stopped for a moment to stare at the professor.

Severus wordlessly handed him a potion, but Harry didn't make a move to take it. Sighing, Severus took a chair and moved to sit beside the bed. "Harry, do you know where you are?" he asked.

His answer was a shrug of the shoulders.

"You're at Snape Manor. Do you remember?"

He thought the boy wasn't going to answer, but he was finally rewarded by a slow nod.

"I'm Professor Snape," he added. "I've no intention of harming you in any way. Take these potions, they'll help you to feel better."

Again, he had to wait a long moment before Harry responded. Finally, he lifted his hand to take the potion that the professor held out, and swallowed it in a gulp, without making a face. Severus nodded approvingly, then held out the rest, which he drank without protest.

"That's perfect. The sun's just come up; do you want to go out and walk a bit in the park?" he suggested.

At these words, Harry startled and shrunk back in the bed. "No. No light."

"Do you have a headache?" Severus asked with a frown.

The teenager's mouth twisted, but he didn't answer.

Still, it was progress, of a sort, thought the Potions master.

"Harry, I'm aware you must be suffering, and I'm going to brew some potions as quickly as possible. But before that, I need to understand. Last night, the Dark Lord tried to steal your powers, and he came very close to succeeding. Something finally prevented him, and I'd like to know if it's you, Harry?"

"Yes. No. A bit."

"How?"

The boy finally decided to meet his professor's eyes. What Severus saw there make him shudder; in place of that empty and confused look he'd had since his kidnapping, his eyes now brimmed with a mixture of heightened emotions that seemed to well up from his very soul: anxiety, fear, uncertainty, and something that resembled hope, a mute entreaty…

"You," came the answer at last.

"Me?" Seveus replied, disconcerted. He'd been persuaded there'd been nothing he could do to counter Voldemort's attack.

Harry nodded.

Still watching the boy, Severus sat back in his chair. He needed to think for a moment. What had he done, exactly? Potions? No… He'd been content to hold Harry in his arms. A totally unproductive and foolishly sentimental gesture, but he'd not found anything better to do at the time.

"Harry, explain, please," he said gently.

The boy hesitated for a moment, then moved closer to Severus. With a slightly trembling hand, he took the professor's and placed it against his forehead. More than ever, his eyes looked like Shadow's, Severus noted, filled with fear and doubt. If the boy would've had enough magic, then without a doubt, he'd have a cat in front of him just then…

Could Harry be right? Had this simple contact been enough to repel Voldemort's attack?

No, Harry couldn't transform into a cat…but an instant later, Severus almost had the impression that Shadow had taken the upper hand in spite of him. Shaking all over, the boy slowly stretched out to prop his head on Severus' knees, his eyes fixed on the window.

More touched than he'd like to admit, the Potions master automatically began to stroke the boy's hair.

"All right, Harry. It's fine. You're safe now. I wouldn't leave you," he tried to reassure him. Then, his voice hoarser, he said, "I regret I wasn't able to intervene any sooner at Malfoy Manor…the situation was extremely delicate. I had to wait until the last moment, I didn't have any way to keep Lucius and Bellatix from doing…what they did. Can you talk about it, Harry?"

No answer, but he felt the boy tense.

He continued to massage the back of the boy's neck and his shoulders for a moment, letting him relax, bit by bit. He hadn't liked to have to ask him so soon, but he couldn't permit himself to wait. Voldemort was outside, and Harry had to get himself togehter as quickly as possible.

"When Lucius Malfoy kidnapped you at the Ministry, where did he take you, Harry?" he asked as calmly and as neutrally as he could.

As if resigned, the boy sighed. "Malfoy Manor."

Severus communicated his approval with a slight pressure to the back of his neck. "What happened then?"

"Voldemort. You were there," the boy pointed out.

"Yes, I was there," Severus replied softly. "And after that, Harry?"

"You made him leave. You left, too." There was a trace of reproach in the teenager's voice.

"That's correct. You stayed with Lucius and Bellatrix."

"And Nott."

"And Nott," Severus agreed.

"They put me in solitary. In the dungeon. The walls came together to…just enough. He talked to me, you know. Voldemort. In my head. At the Ministry," the boy let out.

"Yes, I know," Severus sighed. "That was especially my fault…I'm sincerely sorry, Mister Potter. My strategy turned out to be perfectly deplorable, an error that I should've definitely not made," he admitted hoarsely.

He felt the boy's shoulders tense again, but not in the same manner. It wasn't apprehension this time, but anticipation. Harry knew Severus had something important to say….

"That little act, even here before you left for the Ministry, was only to force you to keep your distance from me. To not consider me as someone worthy of your trust. The situation that had evolved here….had unfortunately directly affected the link between you and the Dark Lord." He shook his head. No, this wasn't the right way to go about this….

"Harry, Voldemort sensed that you'd been lowering your mental defenses since your arrival here at the Manor. That you felt safe. In opening yourself to me, you also allowed Voldemort access to your mind. Knowing that, I wanted at all cost to put an end to it, in a brutal fashion, so as to immediately and definitively sever that connection. It turned out that my decision was totally erroneous, and the consequences disastrous."

At these words, Harry turned around, his head still propped on his professor's knees, to look at him directly, the question burning in his eyes.

Riveted to the boy's face, stopping short of Legilimency, Severus tried to put all the sincerity he could into the words he spoke. "I didn't believe a word of what I said that morning in the dungeon."

Harry closed his eyes, and Severus could see his face relax for the first time since he'd arrived. For a moment, there was only the sound of the fire in the fireplace, and a strange sensation of calm, as his hand stroked the tousled hair.

Then the boy moved slightly to bury the top of his face in his professor's robes, and finally, he began to speak. "I thought I'd never come back," he said, his voice hoarse and tired. "When I heard you tell the Headmaster that it'd all been a mistake, that you didn't want to see me anymore, I don't why that was so hard. I thought you didn't hate me as much, because of Shadow. I felt safe here. I should've known what would happen. But I didn't want to believe it, until you refused to go with me."

"Voldemort had already been summoning me for hours, Harry," Severus said gently, "and I couldn't go with you, for fear of making you even more vulnerable."

"But it was just the opposite!" the boy protested.

"I know that now. My lack of judgment is unforgivable."

He felt Harry relax again, a hand clutched in a fold of his robes. "It doesn't matter. At the Ministry, I felt this sensation, not really a voice, but more like someone was taking control of my brain, telling me that if I opened the door, everything would be fine, I could go home. But it was Malfoy, behind it. Lucius Malfoy."

Severus continued to thread his fingers through his hair, not making a sound. Better to let him talk…

"And then Voldemort, at the Manor. And you. When the two of you left, they put me in that dungeon with the walls that…that…with the walls that shrank."

Severus stiffened. He knew that room, Lucius' pride and joy, a perverse invention that seemed to be the heart of the old dwelling. A veritable chamber of nightmares….

"When you told Voldemort to be wary of me, I didn't know anymore what I was supposed to believe. What you were trying to do. But it didn't make much sense to think you were protecting him, so I preferred to believe that it was to protect _me._"

"Obviously, stupid child," Severus murmured. "I wanted to buy some time. I was hoping the Order could pick up your trail, or that I'd have a chance to act before Voldemort did."

Harry nodded. "That's what I thought afterwards. I think. At the time, it wasn't easy, especially when they started with the Cruciatus and all the other stuff."

He stopped for a moment to think back on it again. Yes, all the other stuff. "Malfoy was there, and Bellatrix and Nott. I didn't recognize him right away. They made up some games… They seemed to enjoy themselves," he said bitterly. "They never stopped. They took turns, always coming up with new ideas, and Bellatrix laughed the entire time. And then, in the end, they decided it was enough. That they could start."

He swallowed hard, and realized after a moment that he couldn't find the words anymore. He tried to focus on the fingers lightly massaging the back of his neck, relaxing his muscles.

"Harry?" asked the voice above him. It was comforting, finally. It was there. Just there.

And the knot in his throat dissolved. "I thought about escaping, you know. But I knew I daren't think of you, in case Malfoy or Voldemort would've sensed it."

Severus wasn't certain that he fully understood the implications of what Harry'd just said. He was tempted to push the subject a bit further…but it was better not to interrupt him.

"After that, I'm not very sure," the boy said at last with a sigh.

"After what, Harry?" asked the professor.

"Bellatrix…they decided that I was ready to 'start'. Start. Like they could still start whatever it was right then. Yeah, rather, finish it."

It was the first time since his return that Severus sensed anger in the boy. In a way, he was relieved by it; he still had enough rage to fight for himself. As with his magic, it would just take time for his strength to build itself up again.

"And then they made me drink one of your potions."

Severus drew in a sharp breath. Oh…oh…one of his potions in the hands of Bellatrix and Lucius? Now he could truly expect the worst.

"After that, I don't know anymore," Harry said. "I seemed to see things…but that doesn't make any sense."

"For example?" asked the Potions master.

"I think at one point my parents came back to help me, except they didn't do that…and then I got away, or someone saved me, but it wasn't really possible, since it was you who… And Uncle Vernon… I don't know anymore if that was before or after…it doesn't make any sense."

"Perhaps it does. Do you recall the effects of that potion you drank?"

"In the Mafoy's dungeon? No. Everything was confusing, but at the same time, it wasn't. I don't know anymore. Am I really here?" he asked abruptly.

"I can verify that you are most certainly at Snape Manor, Mister Potter," Severus replied with a hint of irony.

"It's the only place that seems real," Harry murmured. "Even when I dream, it seems real."

"And that's not the case with Hogwarts?" Severus ventured.

It took a moment for the reply to come, as if Harry were studying the question. "No," he said at last, his voice suddenly tired. "Not Hogwarts anymore."

"What happened with Professor Dumbledore, Harry?"

"I want to sleep now." There was something desperate in his tone, a hand still clutching the fabric of Severus' robe, as if to tether Harry to the reality of the place.

"I'm going to give you a potion. But I'd like you to answer me first; it's important, Harry. What's the problem with the Headmaster?"

"Please, don't send me back there, all right? Not now. Please," murmured the boy plaintively.

Perhaps he was asking for too much. Harry had already given so much…but Severus felt frustrated, seeming so close to the crux of the matter.

What was the potion that Malfoy had made him ingest? What could they've done to provoke such a reaction in the teenager?

It wouldn't do to force things. He would find a way.

"You're not going anywhere, Harry. I won't send you back. You'll stay her for as long as you like. Drink this, and rest, I'll stay here."

Harry drank the potion gratefully, and his hand soon let loose its grasp on the professor's robes. An instant later, he was sleeping soundly.

Severus laid him gently on the bed, and thoughtfully headed for the fireplace.

Should he risk contacting Dumbledore? The Dark Mark above the Manor was a sign that Voldemort knew of their hideout. On the other hand, this could be a Death Eater bluff. Whichever it was, the risk was too great; if someone from the Ministry was watching the Headmaster's office at the moment he tried to contact him, which was surely the case, they'd be in serious danger.

No, he had to wait, and hope that Harry's situation wouldn't worsen again.

In one way or another, he suspected that only the boy knew the answers that would allow him to progress.

Talking a jar of salve from Pomfrey's stocks, he returned to Harry. He used a spell to make sure that he wouldn't awaken, and began to heal the cuts that covered his body. Again.

With a quick flick of his wand, Severus made the pyjama tops disappear and couldn't hold back a groan: yes, this was definitely beginning to become a habit: How many times was he going to have to heal these wounds? Because these were the same ones, it would seem. These characteristic long red any marks that covered his torso were similar to those that his uncle had inflicted on him, only not as deep, and more numerous.

Frowning, Severus tapped the jar. It wasn't Malfoy's custom to use such Muggle methods, unworthy of a wizard, and even more of a Death Eater. What had he been hoping to accomplish, torturing him in this way?

Perhaps he'd just put his finger on something. The potion, the room under Lucius' control, Harry's confusion about the events, his reaction to Dumbledore. They'd tried to mentally break him, utilizing his fears. To make him bend, and bring down the potential barriers, and to impact his mind.

Seeing how disoriented Harry seemed, they'd succeeded, in a way. And his expression in the cemetery, that'd been more than despair; it'd been the total absence of hope and light. The perfect work of a Dementor.

But Harry hadn't given up. He was certain of it. He just hadn't got over it.

It remained to discover what he could do to set the boy to rights once more.

Shaking his head, disillusioned, Severus began to cover the lacerations with salve again. Vernon's work, in some form or another. A version of Vernon even worse yet than the original, and probably wearing Malfoy's tight-lipped little smile, that amused sadistic gleam he always had, deep in his eyes, during raids against Muggles.

Dumbledore had also been implicated, as well as James and Lily, if one were to believe the fragments of Harry's memory.

The perfect torture, all in all. Severus himself would've never believed it a few weeks earlier, but nothing could affect the boy more than the people who, in one way or another, represented his family.

Without taking into account the Weasleys, whom Harry believed to be dead now... Brilliant. Truly brilliant.

And now? he wondered as he covered the last wounds with salve.

Voldemort was probably there, just outside. He certainly wasn't going to let Harry escape when he was so close to attaining his goal. The fact that he'd been able to steal his powers, only to have the door slammed in his face at the last minute, and because of a former Death Eater….

The Dark Lord had probably never been so determined to get what he wanted.

Of course, he knew about the Manor. He'd even been there in person, the day when Severus had moved into the newly constructed building. Nothing as grandiose as Malfoy Manor; he hadn't needed it. In truth, he didn't use it, save for the dungeons. That was the only part of the Manor that he liked, the only part in which he didn't feel bothered or ill at ease.

In fact, he'd never liked this place and all it stood for….

He liked the park, the stretches of garden and forest that surrounded the dwelling, and could return to his dungeon without feeling that familiar knot in his stomach that never failed to materialize when he walked though the great door.

When he was tired enough, he could even go up to his bedchamber, through the laboratory exit, and forget where he really was.

The furniture and paintings had remained unchanged since the day he'd first arrived. Nothing had changed, really, before Harry came.

Even so, he couldn't put the boy in a room prepared by a Death Eater, could he?

Just the idea of Harry in this manor…he seemed to be so at home here, though, running about the rooms with an ease that Severus had never felt in this place…

But Harry also preferred the dungeon. He was truly a good cat…and a good boy!

Not making a sound, Severus climbed the steps and opened the door to the park. The entire property was warded, of course, but he still didn't want to risk going beyond the boundaries of the garden.

As he expected, the air was cool for the season, and the still thick fog prevented him from seeing more than ten meters in front of him. Suddenly, the Mark on his arm began to burn intensely, with an unparalleled fury.

A powerful, deafening roar vibrated in the fog, seeming to fill the air around him; Severus looked up into the sky, his hand clenched on his forearm.

Magnified like the continuous rumbling sound, two red eyes cut through the mist, intently scrutinizing the Manor that they couldn't see.

No, Snape repeated to himself, he couldn't see a thing, it was impossible. But he knew!

Pain radiated from the burn on his arm, pulsing angrily. Was it fury that was increasing the Dark Lord's powers ten-fold, or was it the powers he'd stolen from Harry?

Harry! He shouldn't be left alone down there. Turning on heel, Severus quickly went back down the stairs.

The boy was sleeping, still under the effects of the potion. But he was struggling in his sleep, kicking under the covers, his face protected by an arm. Without hesitation, Severus rejoined the teenager on the bed and held him in a firm embrace. Unacceptable for his wounds to reopen now.

"Harry. Be still. You've nothing to fear here, he can't get in."

But good god, if the boy's scar hurt him as much as his Mark did… The spell he'd cast to visualize Harry's magic was still in place, and he could see the slight but blue mist that still hovered at the boy's forehead suddenly move away, as if pulled by another force.

Clenching his teeth, he pressed Harry against himself, holding him with one arm while he rested the other on his forehead, in a gesture that was beginning to become familiar. Childish, perhaps, as he wasn't going to hold his magic back with his fingers, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

"Harry, take control again, wake up, Shadow, try! You've done it before!"

The boy had twisted in a spasm when Severus had wrapped him in his arms, but at the sound of his voice, he'd instantly stopped struggling and now pushed with all his weight against the Potions master's hand, as he groaned in his sleep.

So much for resting; best that he be awake for the moment, Severus decided.

"_Accio_ potions bag!

Rummaging quickly in Pomfrey's bag, he pulled out a green bottle that he forced between the teenager's clenched jaws.

He felt Harry shudder, then rapidly regain consciousness.

"Ow!"

"Harry? You have pain?"

"I, yes, my scar, he's trying to get back into my head, I don't know…."

"He's trying to take your powers again. You must stop him, like you did the last time."

"Don't let go of me, please!" the boy pleaded through his teeth.

"Not a chance," Severus promised. "Focus!"

For a moment, it seemed that the world around them ceased to exist, except for the little bit of blue-tinged mist stretched out endlessly before them, caught between two forces.

Then noticeably, almost hesitantly, it began to turn around, moving back toward Harry with unbearable slowness.

Relieved, Severus briefly squeezed the boy's arm with his free hand to encourage him. "Those are your powers, Harry. They want to come back to you. Stay well-focused, don't let him have the upper hand!"

He could see drops of sweat forming on the boy's temples, evidence of his effort to fight Voldemort.

Letting go of the covers he clenched in his fists, Harry's hands moved to grab the arm that steadied him, as if holding onto a life preserver.

Severus couldn't help but startle when the boy's fingers clenched his forearm, digging into the burning Mark through his sleeve.

Harry didn't miss his reaction; even with all his attention focused on the powers trying to escape him, he couldn't fail to notice this reflex that was so common to his professor.

The hand on his forehead moved slightly, as if to try and lessen the pain in his scar, and Harry understood.

Mentally reinforcing his defenses, Harry looked away from the scrap of magic still suspended in the air, and with a rapid gesture, bared the professor's forearm.

Severus saw it coming too late. Moving quickly, he tried to pull his arm away, but Harry gripped him with a strength he didn't know he had; one look at his Mark gave him his explanation.

The Potions master always despised the blackened appearance of the scar on his arm, since the very first day. It had probably been the first outward symbol of what he'd wished for and achieved, and in the end, absolutely _not_ wanted. The horror of mutilation in all its splendor, the branding to mark a slave, absolutely nothing glorious or wonderful in all of that.

But what they were seeing now evoked a response far beyond the disgust and revulsion that the Mark normally inspired.

Instead of being uniformly black, the scar was almost bright red at the edges, which had become swollen and ill-defined. The Mark was spreading, devouring the flesh around it, eating away at it like an acid.

And the slight but undeniable odor it gave off, that of burning skin, left no further doubt.

Very well, thought Severus, a painkilling potion would perhaps be welcome, after all.

But before he could rummage in the bag in search of the precious phial, Harry turned brusquely back to him, his green eyes glittering with a new light.

"He's attacking you," he stated.

"Yes, it would seem so," the professor calmly replied. "That was foreseeable. Nothing very serious, in any case. Stay focused, this isn't the time to let him get the upper hand. It's a tactic designed to distract me, don't lose your concentration."

"But your arm…" murmured Harry. "I didn't know he could…not to that extent…"

"Me neither," Severus answered ironically. "Now, work on closing your mind, and hold on to all of your strength and your power."

"He's doing it because you betrayed him, isn't he?" Harry asked.

"That much is obvious, yes," Severus said, annoyed. "And if you intend to indulge yourself, now, in your little predilection for self-guilt, I warn you straight off that I'll be forced to set your priorities right with more than a few kicks to your behind; have I made myself understood?"

For a moment, Harry was speechless; how could Snape speak so lightly about what was happening to him, and threaten him with _what?_ Kicks to his behind? It was positively not Snape-ish of him!

"Harry," Severus finally said, more gently. "Your scar and my Mark are the only ways he has of getting to us. I'll take care of my Mark, and you, keep him out of your head."

With an agile movement, he took a potion from the bag at the foot of the bed, and downed it in a single gulp. Without looking away from Harry, he addressed him with a small nod.

_Understood, Potter?_

No, it wasn't understood. Snape was in the process of burning, for Merlin's sake! How could he sit there and tell him to concentrate, and use his arm as if it were nothing?

The potion didn't' seem to have much effect on the burn itself anyway; he could still smell the horrible odor of burning meat, and the hand holding the potion was shaking slightly as the professor drank it.

"It's because he has my powers", he suddenly realized aloud. "Isn't it? He's stronger with my magic, and that's the reason he can do _that_ to you!"

The professor pursed his lips. "Most likely, indeed. And the only thing you can do is to stop him from having access to even more power," Snape replied.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. His own magic, used against Snape. His own powers used against the man, against the professor who'd risked his life for him. After all the misfortune for which he'd already been the cause….it was out of the question! They wouldn't have Snape too, not if he could help it!

Resting back against his professor, Harry tried again to concentrate. He felt so weak, so weak. It wasn't just his powers that were lacking, but also his strength that the Death Eaters, one by one, had stolen from him.

Sighing, he looked for something to hold onto. Not Snape's arm, no, nothing that would hurt him any further. Merlin, he should've cried out when Harry'd gripped his arm, precisely on the spot where the Mark was eating away his flesh!

But what he really needed was something else altogether….

His hand hesitant, he took hold of Snape's right wrist, which didn't try to pull away. Then he placed the man's palm on his forehead, above his own scar. It hurt him, yes, but strangely less when Snape had his hand on it. He'd always hated for anyone to try and touch his forehead, even to look at it.

But Snape…it wasn't out of morbid curiosity, or that sort of fascination that people had when they learnt he was Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Snape himself couldn't care less. He was just trying to protect him. Him, not a prophecy. Harry was sure of it. After all, he'd tried to disagree with Dumbledore, that Harry shouldn't go to the Ministry.

Things were different now. It was his turn to help Snape, and he could do it. If Snape stayed at his side, he could manage it. He needed his strength….

Refusing Voldemort access to the least of his thoughts, Harry began to close the doors to his mind.

Then those of his magic.

It was strange how easy it was to visualize all those tiny doors closing and locking, with a muffled sound that inevitably reminded him of the locks on his door at Privet Drive.

Closed, sealed against all intrusion, with Harry on the inside.

When he'd finished, it seemed that the slight aura surrounding him started to shine more intensely, much stronger.

Finally focusing on the ribbons of power that remained hanging in the dungeon, he tried to draw them to himself. This time with determination. Once again, he leant heavily against the hand pressing against his forehead, and gathered all his willpower.

He needed his powers; Snape needed them. If he managed it, he could stay here in the dungeon with the Man in Black.

He felt the ex-Death Eater's arms encircle his chest again, leaving his own arms free this time. It was good that way, as he no longer needed the strength to sit upright, and he could stretch out his hands toward the scraps of magic.

Even more noticeably than before, the thread headed nonchalantly toward Harry, finally coming to rest against the forehead it'd left a while ago. It pirouetted for an instant near his scar, then seemed to hesitate, before dissolving against his forehead.

More, he had to have more….

Something seemed to glimmer for an instant in front of the window, before entering the laboratory. A thin, loose wisp that seemed made of mist-like matter stretched slowly toward him, fluttering lazily.

His powers, he could sense them, his powers were coming back to him because he was calling them, because he needed them.

The opaque thread slowly came closer, ignoring his outstretched hands, and traveled to alight on his forehead, through the Potions master's hand.

Harry felt drained by the effort the task demanded of him, but excitement carried him onward. His powers were returning to him in the same way they'd left him, and he felt more whole, second by second.

Behind him, he could sense the regular movement of Snape's chest rising with each breath. The fingers on his forehead moved slightly, like a caress, and Harry knew the professor was encouraging him. That he was happy that Harry was doing what had to be done.

Harry could feel the heat his Mark was giving off against his chest, despite the thickness of the cloth that separated them.

Redoubling his effort, Harry tried to focus solely on the long blue-tinted thread crossing the laboratory. He had to think of nothing other than utilizing all his resources.

In the silence of the dungeon, time seemed to have stopped. Not a sound troubled the slow magical ballet, rocked only by the crackling fire and the two of them breathing.

Severus was amazed by the boy's willpower. Even half-broken by fatigue and the nightmares he'd had to endure, he was still finding the courage within himself to struggle…and he was doing it for him, of all people, the professor who'd made his life at Hogwarts uncomfortable by any means at his disposal. Who'd constantly insulted him, belittled him, and tormented him in the name of an old grudge of which Harry'd not even been aware.

And now the boy was holding onto him as if his very life depended upon it, looking for _him_ to save him.

Was he so desperate? What could it be in him that pushed him to all of a sudden attach himself to an ex-Death Eater, to the professor he hated most of all?

But for the moment, Severus couldn't ask the boy to be rational. He was there, struggling with all of his strength…and with Severus' as well.

Magic and strength, the two things that Voldemort had stolen from him, and that he now was attempting to take back. Magic was not bounded by distance, of course, but energy, on the other hand, was constrained by proximity. Harry was taking what he could, without distinguishing the source, and it was fine that way.

He only hoped that his own strength would be enough to nourish the boy until the end.

For that, he obviously had potions. He just hoped that Poppy's stocks would be enough to last.

He was truly proud of Harry, yes, proud to see him fight this way, so soon after his kidnapping, to see him apply all his willpower to the only objective that mattered.

The boy was truly a hero after all. But those imbeciles at the Ministry and the _Prophet_ didn't really know why.

After what seemed to him like hours, Harry felt the hands that'd held him since the beginning move to rest on his shoulders, to force him to turn around.

His questioning eyes met those of the Potions professor. He seemed much more exhausted than when he'd taken that potion earlier.

"Take a break, Harry. You're doing very well; a few potions will help you not to fall asleep."

Harry took the phials that Snape held out to him, and downed them without a word. The times when he'd suspected the professor of wanting to poison him seemed afar off.

Severus dosed himself with potions as well, his movements stiffer and wearier now. He turned to Harry again. "Do you think you can maintain a status quo for a few minutes, while I check on the potions brewing?" he asked.

His voice was slow and tired, Harry noted as he nodded. "I feel better, Professor. I think recovering my powers has the same effect as a potion. I feel…fuller."

Severus nodded. "The level of your magic has risen considerably. You can see by the color of the magic reentering your body; it's green now, almost yellow."

Harry looked toward the current of magical mist hanging in the air. "I didn't realize that," he murmured.

"The change occurred almost imperceptibly," Severus explained. "When it's orange, you'll have recovered all your powers. You're doing very good work," he finished, watching the boy.

There was something so lighthearted and childish in the smile he received in reply, that he felt his lips curl slightly with the hint of a smile. Sixteen years old or not, the boy needed to hear, more than ever, that he'd done well.

Severus quickly made a round of the cauldrons, adding several ingredients, lowering the flame under certain ones, then turned to Harry again. "Do you think you could eat something?"

A grimace answered him. "Thanks, but I think I'd prefer to stick to potions for now. The idea of eating is a bit…no, thanks."

Severus nodded as he handed him another potion, which he swallowed greedily.

Harry was feeling his strength return to him at the same time as his powers, but his body was calling for something more substantial to cope with this sudden influx.

He watched Snape for a moment, busy with his cauldrons. With precision, like always, but also with a sort of weariness that wasn't usual for him. "Professor, your arm?" Harry suddenly asked.

Severus automatically brought a hand up to his forearm. "The pain is less. He must not be using as much power as before," he replied casually.

Harry nodded. There was something in the professor's eyes to which he wasn't accustomed. A sort of respect, with something that seemed like affection, perhaps.

He was all of a sudden struck by a familiar sensation, as the room abruptly changed shape, his eyesight sharpened, but something wasn't right, though; he felt pulled every which way, stuck between two worlds.

"Harry!" The anguish in the professor's shout only added to his confusion.

Something was really wrong, and he hurt everywhere, as if skin no longer fit his body…

"Shadow, stupid cat, now's not the time!"

Shadow. Oh, Merlin! He'd transformed! Or rather… Really?"

He lifted a hand up in front of his eyes, fearing what he'd see. It was indeed an arm he saw, a human one, for the most part. The upper half was covered in black fur that he knew very well, having tried to clean it several times with his tongue. As for the hand, it'd now been replaced by a large paw with elongated fingers, from which extended a set of dreadful claws.

Harry jumped backward, and the cry that came from his throat was a perfect mixture of a meow and a shout of horror.

He turned to Snape with a panicked look, just in time to see him raise his wand.

"_Animagus revelio!_"

There was a 'pop', and Harry felt his entire body stretch, trying to obey the spell, but in vain. Rubbing his face against his shoulder to get rid of the horrible itching sensation, he was horrified to feel cat whiskers tickling his skin.

Merlin, if Hermione could see this, she could definitely forget her humiliating experience with Polyjuice; he had to be so much worse off right now.

He heard Snape swear, and an instant afterward, a hand forced open his jaw to pour down the contents of a bottle.

Finally, his body decided to choose: a moment later, he was on all fours on the bed, shooting Snape an imploring look.

For a split second, he thought the man was going to give him one of those scathing tirades that'd earned him his reputation; his mouth opened, then closed abruptly, once, twice…

"Very well, Mr. Potter. So, we can conclude from this that your powers are partially restored. Partially. Take note of this detail for the next time."

The cat meowed weakly, uncertain of what it was supposed to think. That was it? No reproaches or sniggering?

But Snape continued to observe him thoughtfully. "Perhaps it'd be best for you to regain your strength under this form, now that you're there. Take your time. When you feel ready to begin again, let me know."

With these words, the Potions master turned back to his work.

But this wouldn't do, Harry thought. He didn't have the right to let the professor suffer when he could do something about it.

Slipping to the bottom of the bed, he approached the professor bending over a cauldron, and delicately stretched out a paw towards his leg.

Snape turned around, and Harry was almost certain that he saw a glimmer of affection pass through the eyes that met his green ones.

"Not now, Harry. You have to recover your strength. In this form, he can't reach you."

_But he can reach you¸_ the cat thought.

His thoughts were probably clearly readable on his cat face, because Snape then bared his forearm.

"It's not any worse. The burning has lessened considerably," he said.

_But it's still painful_, Harry understood, thinking of his own scar. The potions had never done much to help it, and probably it was the same for Snape.

He hadn't stopped looking at the professor, who sighed. "It's a small price to pay, Harry, really. The choices we make always have consequences; this is one of them, and I've no right to complain. Things could be much worse, and you did excellent work today. In truth, I hadn't hoped for so much, far from it. I'm very impressed," he finished with an appreciative nod.

Shadow stayed still for a moment, flabbergasted and disconcerted.

Was there still a chance that all wasn't lost?

Was there a small, a very small chance that he could still live in the light somewhere?'

That he, Harry, could truly do something that didn't end in total disaster?

In any case, Snape had been right about one thing: he felt exhausted now. A bit of sleep could only do him good, if he wanted to make it to the end without losing the hold he had on his powers.

He was getting ready to jump to the bed again when two hands grabbed him and placed him carefully on the covers.

"No need to put a strain on your joints while they're not correctly healed," Snape said.

Yes, Snape. Always Snape, wasn't it? Who else?

Not Dumbledore who'd struck him, nor McGonagall who'd cast a Cruciatus at him. Not his friends who were dead, either, and even less likely, the Dursleys…

In a way, it was hard to believe he was no longer in the cupboard. It was down there that he lived, not here, in Snape's peaceful dungeon.

He really didn't have a right to this comfort, and the professor's attention; it wasn't logical, not right…

But for the moment, he was Shadow. He didn't need to think of anything else, just of sleeping, eating, and watching the Man in Black. It was all that he asked.

Curling up in the covers, he fell instantly to sleep, and dreamed only of the dungeon.

When he awoke, he'd not the slightest idea of how he could've ended up on Snape's knees, who was also sleeping in his armchair. He didn't remember having woken up, but even more, having been moved in his sleep.

But he felt rested, and if he'd not had the subdued pain that began again when he moved a paw, he would've felt rather good. His bones seemed to creak like an old door, and his muscles felt as if they'd been put through a grinder…not to mention that burning sensation. Oh, all right, he hurt everywhere.

He slipped softly to the floor so as to not awaken the Potions master, and set off in search of a bowl. That always seemed to make the pain go away, he'd noticed.

Nothing was on the floor where the Man in Black usually left it, though, but he heard Snape awaken and stretch out slowly behind him.

He didn't look good, Shadow noticed. He features were drawn with fatigue, and the circles under his eyes had never been so pronounced. Was it his fault? No, he remembered, he'd done all he could to help him; Snape had been happy with him.

He had to do better today.

The Man in Black had already got up and was coming toward him. "How do you feel?"

The cat blinked its eyes in reply.

"Hmmm, I suppose that can be arranged. However, I fear that potions would be more effective in you human form. Do you want to eat beforehand? It seems that cats always have more of an appetite than what's reasonably possible."

An enthusiastic meow answered him, provoking Severus to smile slightly.

"Tuna? Sardines? Mackerel? Lucky for you that so many potions require fish extracts. And that Muggles are more than masters in the art of canning them," he grumbled as he emptied a tin of sardines into the bowl for the cat, who eagerly set to it almost before its feet hit the floor.

"Behave yourself, Mister Potter, your total lack of manners is appalling!" he muttered.

The cat ignored him completely, and emptied the bowl in a matter of seconds, before turning its satisfied expression toward him and conspicuously licking its chops.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Very well, can we proceed, Mister Potter, or would you first like to clean yourself up in the feline manner?" he scoffed. The face the cat made was so human that he had to suppress a smile. Still scrutinizing the cat, he contented himself with lifting his mouth in a questioning smile.

A hoarse and disapproving meow answered him. Yes, he was ready…. The cat blinked to let Snape know it understood, and got to its feet in preparation.

_"Animagus revelio!"_

The transformation was more difficult than usual, but still less so than the last one.

"Thanks," he said, after regaining his balance. "At least I don't have a mustache this time."

"Don't despair, Potter," Snape said ironically, "that will come."

Harry fell to the bed with a grimace. For a short moment, their eyes met, and it seemed to the boy that the entire matter of the kidnapping had never taken place. He'd never left the Manor, Snape had never rejected him, no one had died…

But hadn't Snape precisely said that no one had died?

Everything was too confusing for him to think about it now. In his human form, things were definitely blacker and more complicated.

Snape must've sensed this, because an instant afterward, all track of humor left his face, as he leant over him. "Harry, are you all right?"

The boy shook his head. There were too many things, and…he didn't want to discuss them, not now. Never, if that were possible. "I…I don't fell very well. I don't think the potions are working anymore, Professor."

"Indeed, it's time to take additional doses. This one first," he said as he held out a bluish phial.

His expression hadn't lost its trace of worry, Harry saw. His gaze lingered a moment on the hand holding the second bottle; it wasn't shaking, but he could see by the way the fingers clenched the phial, that Snape was still suffering.

It was time to move on to serious matters.

"Professor?" he asked when he'd swallowed the last potion. "I don't see the magic in the air anymore like before."

"That's normal," Snape agreed. "The spell stopped acting when you transformed." Lifting his wand, the Potions master let out a long incantation that trailed off into a prolonged murmur. Almost a song, Harry thought.

A moment later, the thin thread of green mist materialized once again, more diffuse, motionless across the room.

"It's not moving," Harry stated, disconcerted.

"Voldelmot can reach neither your thoughts nor your powers when you are in your Animagus form. In truth, he can't even tell if you're alive. I tried to make you take that form earlier, when the situation seemed critical, but you didn't have enough magic in you to respond to the potion."

Harry nodded slowly. That made sense. Now that he was back in his human form, Voldemort wasn't going to take long to start up the fight for his powers again.

But he had no intention of letting him call the shots.

Snape was staring at him, and seemed to follow his train of thought. "Ready, Harry? If things go badly, if you feel you must rest, let me know and I'll give you another dose of the Animagus potion. You seem strong enough for it to work now. Understood?"

"Understood. You…you'll stay near me?" Harry asked, his voice more pitiful than he would've liked.

Without answering, the professor sat on the bed with his back against the wall and made a gesture for Harry to join him.

Harry obeyed and went to settle in against him, his face turned toward the window. Hard as he tried to think, he didn't remember having felt such a sense of security before. When Snape rested a hand on his forehead, letting Harry's head rest on his shoulder as he wrapped a protective arm around him, Harry thought that this was surely the way James would've held him if he were sick, had he lived.

The image of James and Lily reproaching him for being alive, so disappointed in their son, flashed in his memory, and he found himself pressing against Snape a bit more.

Like Shadow did, he thought. But he wasn't Shadow. He was Harry and he had a task to finish.

A task largely made easier by Snape's presence, though. Yes, the professor was there, and he could trust him. Things were truly happening too quickly this summer…

But certain of them were definitely for the better.

Yes, truly for the better.

Without waiting any longer, he applied himself to once again closing each door in his mind. Then, preparing himself mentally for the battle awaiting him, he called the wisp of mist that was stretching out again.

And he absorbed it, slowly at first, then more rapidly as the task became easier.

His powers were returning and his strength with it; it wasn't so difficult anymore, almost exciting to feel the waves of magic break over him, rekindling every fiber of his being.

The mist became yellow, then, as Snape had predicted, orange.

But for all that, the magic in the mist didn't seem to weaken—much the opposite. When the orange suddenly changed to mauve, Harry felt that something else had just changed , something in the nature itself of the powers he was absorbing.

It was magic, certainly, a powerful magic. But it wasn't his own.

Behind him, he could feel Snape tense as well. His fingers brushed across his forehead for an instant, as if he didn't know what to do.

Then he spoke, calmly, but Harry could intuit the hint of fervor in his tone.

"Harry, it's no longer your own magic you're absorbing now. It's the Dark Lord's powers."

* * *

_A bit thank to Raewhit for the translation !_

_Next chapter is my dear chapter 22, I can't wait for you to read it... I just hope that my idea was not too stupid ! anyway, wait and see :-)_


	22. Chapter 22 Protego

**Chapter Twenty-two: _Protego_**

Silence reigned in the dungeon of Snape Manor, where time seemed to have all of a sudden come to a standstill.

"His powers?" Harry murmured with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. He felt Snape nod his head behind him.

"Mine are back, aren't they? I've taken them all back?"

"Yes, your magic has been restored to its initial level." Snape's voice was tired and slightly uncertain.

In front of them, the influx of magic still hung in the air. The thick, mauve fog was furiously trying to leave by reversing its direction, but the boy's powers prevented it.

"I can take his powers, like he took them from me. Professor? Can that really work? Can I really steal his magic from him?"

There was an instant of silence, then Snape answered, "It would seem so. The potion shouldn't allow it, but it shouldn't have permitted him to continue to steal your powers that way either. The connection between the two of you is a unique case in magical history, you must understand. It would appear that the balance of power has been reversed, even if we don't know why. It's impossible to predict what might happen now. I can only assure you, without being positive, that this link between your powers will end when the potion's effects wear off in two days."

"And until then—"Harry began.

"Until then, anything is possible," Severus concluded.

"I want to do it," the boy said firmly. He felt the Potions master stiffen behind him.

"Harry, you must fully understand what that means. Each wizard's magic is unique, and it's absolutely not made to be mixed with someone else's. Even if a magical link connects you, your powers have nothing to do with each other's. You magic will fight against this intrusion."

"But _he_ did it very well!" Harry replied.

"That's different. Voldemort is neither totally living, nor truly dead. He's no longer a wizard as you and I are. How he uses magic is very different, and he's powerful and corrupt enough to absorb powers of a different nature and assimilate them without damage. That's not the case with you, Harry," Snape explained.

"But I could deprive him of his powers," Harry said thoughtfully. "Weaken them, at least for a moment. If I manage to steal all his magic, what would happen? To him, I mean?"

"He will not die," Snape replied. "If you managed to absorb all his powers, then perhaps he could definitely be without magic. But Harry, that won't happen. Even in this fashion, stealing another wizard's powers is extremely exhausting, even more so for someone so young. As for draining Voldement of his magic completely, that would take a considerable effort, just to break the last link that ties him to his magic. It's impossible, Harry, even for you. At the most, you could deprive him of part of his powers for a time, until he builds them up again. It's not worth it. Content yourself with preventing him from taking your powers again. That will be already prove exhausting enough to keep up during the two days that remain of the potion."

"But I have to try," murmured Harry. "I can't not do it, it's a chance I'll not have again."

"No, indeed, and that's a good thing," Snape answered.

"I really feel better. Please, let me try?"

The professor sighed. "It's not as if I can stop you, foolish child."

"Sure you can!" said the young wizard. "I need you…." He felt the blush begin in his face. "I can't do it without you. Really. So if you're against it…." He shrugged. "Please, help me."

Severus sat silently for a moment. Then he slowly nodded. "You can try. But if you experience the slightest trouble, the least difficulty, you will stop. Is that clear?"

The boy smiled. Yes, it was a good thing, to ask permission…and to almost be refused because someone was worried about him. If someone had told him there'd come a day when he'd be happy to see Snape keep him from doing what he wanted!

"Yes, Professor."

He felt Snape's hand rest on his shoulder and give him a gentle shove. The Potions master got up with difficulty and headed for the bag containing Pomfrey's potions. Now there only remained some painkilling potions, some Dreamless Sleep, and a few others meant for Harry…but nothing for Snape to regain his strength.

Snape turned toward the simmering cauldrons and slowly went about the preparations. Each movement seemed to require an enormous effort. All the energy the Death Eaters had taken from Harry had been restored to the boy, at the cost of his own this time. It was a small price to pay, but still, it wasn't as if he'd been physically up to par before that. Without the aid of potions, he couldn't support Harry in his battle for Voldemort's powers.

Not that he was sure that he approved of this about-face in the situation. The benefits of this operation seemed more than uncertain; Harry could just as well suffer from this influx of foreign magic as he could profit from it. But if things turned out badly, he could force the boy to transform into his cat form, and in that way stop all outside influence.

The chief advantage that Severus saw in the maneuver was the psychological benefit. Harry needed to fight, to take the upper hand, to direct his aggressiveness and desire to vanquish toward a precise goal! A despondent and terrorized Harry was the worst of situations.

If the boy encountered problems, Snape would handle them in due course. In the end, these problems would not be so serious, or at least that was what he was convinced of now.

It suddenly came to him that Dumbledore would completely approve of his decision to let Harry try to steal the Dark Lord's powers, because he had to give all that he had, didn't he, try everything, even at the risk of his own life?

But Albus was wrong—Harry wasn't a weapon. He was a target, and right now, a victim…a wounded teenager who needed to believe in himself, in someone, and in something. Even if that something had to be the convictions instilled into him by an old, war-weary wizard.

_Go to hell, Albus, go to hell!_

But he knew he was being unfair; Dumbledore wasn't like that. He had more affection for the boy than anyone else probably, outside of his friends.

Good god, and of himself, perhaps…surely.

The boy was his responsibility now. He wouldn't let anyone, even the Headmaster, steer his life per a prophecy uttered by a scatterbrained hysteric, universally known for her systematic and catastrophic erroneous predictions!

That prophecy which had already done harm enough…and because of Snape.

He shook his head. He was much too exhausted to think about that now. But he was beginning to fathom why Albus had been so indulgent with the boy all these years.

Merlin help him, he was starting to become like Dumbledore.

He turned toward Harry, who was resting, stretched out on the bed.

"Do you hurt anywhere?" he asked brusquely.

The boy started. "A bit. But I think the potions are still working," he answered after a moment.

Severus nodded. Pomfrey's potions probably weren't strong enough to completely wipe out his pain. His own potions were ready now; he'd have enough for the immediate future.

He was pleased to think that he was still capable of preparing a potion with his eyes shut, but in the end, he was surprised to note he'd guessed rightly. Incapable of focusing on the measurements and exact gestures required in their preparation, his reflexes had taken over, and the potions were there, as powerful and perfect as ever. He'd been able to prepare the Theft of Magic potion under Voldemort's constant surveillance, after all, so this shouldn't have surprised him. Yes, it'd all definitely started with potions, and would end with them…

With stiff steps, he returned to the makeshift bed and handed the potions to Harry, who swallowed them without a word.

The green eyes staring at his face seemed to scrutinize him intently and inquisitively. Something was bothering him…

"Professor…your Mark?

Snape nodded, his hand moving reflexively to rest on his left forearm. "The summons has lessened greatly in intensity. Nothing unbearable. Do you want to rest a bit before starting again?"

But the boy's eyes suddenly began to shine with a renewed glow. "No. I'm going to take his powers now, and he won't be able to reach you anymore! Never again," he hissed.

Severus felt his throat constrict. That wasn't what he'd expected. What was going on in Harry's mind? Did he really mean what he was saying? Did he even want to protect himself from another attack like the one he'd suffered? Too much rage, too much instant aggression inside him….

"Harry. No," he said firmly. With his good hand, he grasped the boy's chin and forced him to look at him. "Don't ever fight that way."

Harry clenched his teeth, holding Severus' eyes, a bit disconcerted. "What do you mean?"

"To throw yourself into battle, you must possess several things. The will, the courage, and the strength, whatever your weapon. You must know why you're fighting, and be convinced that it's worth it. Rage can be an asset, especially in desperate situations, but there's a very fine line between the rage to vanquish and this impulsiveness that makes you forget why and how. Composure, Harry, and clear-mindedness—you cannot allow yourself to set them aside."

"But I want him to pay, I want him to leave you alone! I sense that I can do it, I know it!" the boy said through his clenched teeth.

"One can win a fight, and lose his soul. Voldemort's the best proof of that."

Harry's face was almost sorrowful now. "I'm not like him…" he murmured.

"No, certainly not. And you never will become like him. If you've taken this notion of absorbing his powers to heart, then do it; but let it be done in a reasoned way and in all conscience. Not out of inner rage. You're not in any shape to withstand this sort of confrontation," Snape said decidedly.

"What do I have to do?" Harry gave in.

"You've managed quite well up until now. Concentrate, don't let your emotions get in the way of your task."

The boy nodded, but Severus sensed his uncertainty.

"Get yourself ready while I finish putting the potions in phials."

Harry sat back against the wall, but still watched Severus, who had the unpleasant impression of having each and every one of his stiff and economical movements examined.

Obviously, if Harry understood he'd be using Severus own strength in the process, he'd give up his plan…

No, he had to let him try. Ever since he'd gained the upper hand in the battle for his powers, the boy had shed that lost, vacant look that disturbed the Potions master so much.

It was worth it. Truly.

He'd anticipated the quantities of potions needed to see them through a week at this rate, and all the available phials were quickly put to use. Pepper-up, painkilling, sleep and, of course, healing potions… Yes, that would be enough; no need to get any other preparations underway. At that point, they'd be back at Hogwarts.

Taking an assortment of potions, he returned to the bed and set the extras close at hand, in anticipation of what was to follow.

Potions were never enough, he knew, and perhaps he wouldn't be able to get up the next time they'd need to take one. In truth, he'd rarely felt himself so close to the verge of exhaustion. If only he could sleep…

It seemed as if years had gone by since the last time he'd really rested. Spying for Dumbledore, at the same time acting the part of a Death Eater, brewing potions, classes, watching over the Slytherins….

No, ever before that, he'd not been in the habit of sleeping soundly.

The worry of his days at Hogwarts, dogged by the Marauders' footsteps , and the anguish that'd grabbed him by the throat as soon as he'd stepped into that familiar house, had hardly offered him a chance to fall into a restorative sleep. Neither the shadow of his mother, nor the protective presence of Dumbledore later on, had succeeded in convincing him that he could be safe while he slept, even in the heart of the Slytherin dungeons.

No, he didn't need to spend an hour each evening, setting up warding spells like Moody. He simply waited, his wand within reach of his hand.

And now, more than ever he felt the weight of his resistance to sleep; he was so worn-out, so exhausted by recent events, that he was no longer sure of being able to make the right decisions.

Lily forgive him if he was wrong, but this time he had to trust his instincts.

Once again, he sat on the bed beside Harry, requiring more flexibility of his muscles than was reasonably possible. The boy didn't appear to be fooled, though, his eyes fixed on him with a fierce expression.

"Professor?"

"Do you feel ready?" Severus asked evasively.

Harry nodded, seeming to hesitate over adding something, then decided not to.

"Eat a bit of something beforehand," Severus said as he handed him a bowl of soup.

The boy swallowed it down without a word, as if it were a potion, glancing furtively at the professor. "You're not eating?" he finally asked.

"Later," Severus dryly replied. He certainly wasn't about to start having his eating habits scrutinized by a sixteen year old teenager whose own were more than questionable!

Harry didn't press him, but the mutinous expression on his face didn't lessen. He bent over to place the bowl on the floor, then turned to Snape with determination. "I'm ready."

Severus searched his face for a moment. They were going to fight, harboring so many uncertainties and erroneous assumptions, all in the pursuit of a goal, the consequences of which they still didn't know.

"Harry, do you know why you're doing this?"

There was an instant of hesitation in the boy's eyes, then a calm assurance. "Because it's important."

Snape couldn't have given a better reason. He nodded and, positioning himself so he'd be able to remain immobile for a long while, motioned for Harry to join him.

Harry slid onto the bed to get closer, then turned toward him. "Professor…I just wanted to tell you thanks, and…I know that it's stupid, but if something ever goes wrong, I want you to know that I really appreciated everything you've done for me. Being here, these last few weeks, have probably been the best hols I've ever spent. It was almost like…." He shook his head in frustration. "I'm sorry for all of it. I promise to do all I can to fix things…thanks for everything."

"Foolish child," Severus murmured. "Or rather, foolish cat. You certainly have no need to fix anything; how many times must I repeat that you you've done nothing wrong in all of this?" he grumbled before he sighed.

"Harry, there are still many things that are very jumbled up in your mind, and that's completely normal. I don't know how…there's not a simple way to consider things. Do what seems important to you, Harry; the most pressing matter at the moment is for you to regain your strength and get back on your feet. The rest is really of little importance."

Speaking was beginning to require a considerable effort, and thinking, even more.

"I want it to stop," the boy said, subdued. "So that no one else gets hurt or killed. I'm the only one who can do it…but I don't know how. I'm going to try, of course, I promise," he repeated.

Snape shook his head and pulled Harry against him. "Whatever happens, Shadow…I'm proud of you."

The words sounded harsh in his mouth, and Severus was almost surprised to hear them. Then relieved. He should've felt irritated or ill-at-ease, but he was too tired for that.

Harry tensed at his words, so Snape closed his eyes and laid his hand on Harry's forehead. At the contact, he felt him relax, until he melted against him.

Severus smiled slightly; it was almost easy to believe, like this, that it was a ten year old boy snuggling against his shoulder. Or a cat. No, a child, definitely a child.

It was a very strange day. Another one. But wherever this matter took him, for once he wouldn't be ending up alone. And someone else needed to hear that as well.

"I won't leave you. You're not alone. Whatever you do or whatever happens, I'm here with you."

And it was a blessed state of exhaustion that allowed the words to flow so freely.

Nothing happened for several seconds, then Harry took a deep breath, and started to systematically close his mind and ready his defenses.

And his attack.

For once in his life, he was going to take the offensive! Oh, of course, it wasn't as if he hadn't already fought a basilisk, or , let's see, Voldemort. But this time, he was on the attack, fully aware of why—not to defend himself, not really.

He had the will, he had the courage, he had the strength, and he had Snape. Oh yes, he had Snape, and he had no intention of losing him. The man was positively ashen, his entire demeanor stiff and pained. Voldemort wasn't content to torture him through his Mark; he was draining his life away as well!

Oh well, Voldemort wouldn't be taking him. Because Snape had done so much for him, because Shadow or Harry needed the professor, desperately needed his presence, the safety and comfort he gave him, and because Harry had no one but him anymore.

No one but him.

Hogwarts was only a refuge, his life a cemetery, but he certainly wasn't going to let Voldemort take the last thing from him that he had.

Whatever that was. Be it a huge empty manor, even a cynical Potions professor who'd become his last defense against madness. Or against emptiness, if that made a difference.

The long thread of mauve mist started to slowly come nearer. It was fascinating to watch, this little dance of the Dark Lord's powers, struggling to return to their master, and yet unable to resist the attraction that Harry imposed upon them.

At the beginning, he only felt a slight tingling, like a mild electric current running through his veins, but nothing really unpleasant…but troubling, perhaps.

The more he absorbed the influx of magic, the more he had the impression of the prickling morphing into a torrent, into a storm inside his body. Actually, he could hear the noise of violent wind beating against all the obstacles in its path! No, it was impossible….

He opened his eyes again; the room was much darker now. And yet, he didn't feel as if much time had passed since they'd started.

What time could it be?

Looking up at the window, he understood. The storm wasn't actually inside his body; it was really the sound of wind he'd heard, blowing wildly around the Manor. The sky was obscured by the gathering clouds, hiding the sun from the last of the evening.

Harry sat up to better see what was happening outside. The hand that'd been on his forehead all along was withdrawn, only to reappear a moment later to hand him a potion.

He took it without thinking. "Is it a real storm?" he asked.

"If your question is whether or not the wind and rain outside are real, they are. As for their occurring naturally, on the other hand, it would seem not. Voldemort is trying to throw you off balance. Or destroy the Manor, I'm not exactly sure," Snape said ironically.

"You really think so?" Harry asked worriedly.

"About the Manor? No. A storm will have no effect against these walls and he knows it. It's a demonstration of strength, probably sustained by the group of Death Eaters gathered around the grounds. Nothing that should worry you. Drink."

Without looking away from the window, Harry drank the potion. "I don't like this," he murmured.

"It's only wind and rain, Harry. The Manor is sound, you have nothing to worry about," Snape said reassuringly.

"It's not just that; I feel like the storm is inside of me as well."

"You've absorbed a great amount of power, so that's not surprising. It'd be best to stop here, at least for the moment."

Harry looked around him, as if he'd lost track of time. "How long have I been doing this?" he asked.

"Five hours. It's time to repeat your treatment," the professor replied.

Harry stretched, then moved to give Snape more room. He really felt better now, despite his wounds and the pain in his reawakening muscles. He could feel the foreign powers struggling to find their place in him, stirring his own magic, sharpening his senses. At least he wasn't exhausted now.

He turned to Snape to share his enthusiasm, but his smile quickly froze when he saw the Potions master's face. He was strikingly pale now; in fact, his entire body, of which the Potions master always seemed in complete control, resembled a marionette that'd been abandoned after its performance. Snape had aged ten years in the space of several hours.

But like Harry, he didn't feel in such bad shape. In truth, if it weren't for fact that he felt vulnerable and poorly in control of his movements, he would've been rather satisfied with the situation.

The potions hadn't been enough, in the end. He'd not thought to have to use so many, and like any good Potions master, he'd expected they'd not be as effective the third time around.

He'd been right. But there was certainly one positive thing about total exhaustion combined with an excessive intake of potions: they'd considerably reduced his stress level.

Oh, he was aware that the Manor was protected adequately, that Voldemort couldn't reach them directly, and that Harry was for now out of immediate danger.

But there were risks: the not so immediate danger, the diverse factors to take into account, and the various levels of analysis and understanding that the situation warranted.

Ah well, Merlin forgive him, but now a single avenue of thought occupied him—that of the current situation, and he was perfectly satisfied with it.

Harry was doing fine. Snape was going to take care of him, make him eat, sleep, and all would go well. Until the next morning at least. After which, there remained a day for them to live through, but that could wait. If Voldemort had nothing better than a miserable storm with which to distract Harry, let him continue to work his mischief.

As for himself, he'd had more than enough of that mischief these past few years.

He reached out for the potions and took three, which he gave to Harry

For a moment, he contemplated the idea of taking one last Pepperup to make sure of staying awake while Harry slept…but he knew it would've been ineffective.

"Do you feel able to eat something solid?" he asked the boy.

Harry jumped to his feet with an energy that would've made the professor smile if the muscles of his face hadn't been completely numb.

"I'll take care of the meal, Professor!" the teenager said enthusiastically.

"I'm not sure…."

"Hey, I manage all right on my own, you remember?" Harry protested.

"I'm not calling your culinary competency into question. On the other hand, the storm might've caused damage to the upper storey, nothing more than broken glass, most likely, but it's unnecessary to take risks," Snape explained. "See what you can do with the stores in the back of the cupboard."

Harry nodded. "Do you need anything else? A potion?"

"No," Snape said tersely. "How do you feel?"

"Much better, thanks. I feel like I've downed an entire cauldron of Pepperup! And I can feel my powers…it's a rather strange sensation, as if my powers and his got bigger when they came together. But it's not unpleasant, just the opposite!"

Severus nodded. The boy's aura was a deep, radiant mauve now, nothing abnormal at first glance.

Harry shifted from one foot to the other for a moment, saying, "Don't mean to offend you, Professor, but you look terrible. Is there anything I can do?"

Snape grimaced. "Even more than usual, you mean? No, Harry, I just need sleep, and you do as well."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape didn't give him the chance.

"You surely feel in fine form, but your body needs sleep to recover and correctly assimilate the powers. You'll take a potion if necessary," the professor finished decisively.

The boy nodded reluctantly and headed for the cupboard. Some food supplies occupied the shelves, along with various questionable potions ingredients. He selected two items, and then began to look for pots.

With a quick incantation, Snape made them appear on the table. The professor seemed downright pallid and exhausted. He should've already felt better too, with all the powers Harry'd taken from Voldemort. Harry noticed several empty phials at the end of the bed. Energy potions, what remained of them.

So, what was going on with the professor? Snape had to know what he was doing, though, like he always did…

Harry nervously emptied the contents of the boxes into a pan and said a series of incantations. A bit of flame couldn't hurt; this certainly wouldn't be high cuisine, but it'd be enough for the moment.

And now that he saw the food cooking, it struck him that he was really hungry; his stomach growled approvingly.

If only that bloody storm would stop, the evening would've almost been perfect….

Satisfied with the result, Harry held out a plate to Snape, and sat in the nearest armchair. The professor hadn't budged an inch since Harry'd begun to cook, and didn't make any move to eat, his eyes fixed on the window.

Harry took a few mouthfuls, fighting the urge to devour his plate, and then cleared his throat. "Professor? I can vouch that it's edible," he said with a gesture at the still-untouched plate.

Snape nodded. "I'm sure it is, thank you. I'll do your meal justice later; I'm not hungry right now."

Harry resisted the impulse to tell him that whether _he_ felt like it or not, he certainly wouldn't have had a choice. Best not to venture into that terrain, though; Snape didn't seem in the mood to be patient with him.

Now that his stomach was full, he had to admit that the professor was right; he felt his body relax and become sluggish, ready to fall asleep.

He was startled when Snape finally got up, motioning him to the bed with a hand. "An application of salve to your wounds, and you can sleep. Do you think you need a potion?" he asked.

Harry shook his head and went to sit on the side of the bed. He didn't much like the idea of the salve, but he remembered that Shadow had found it especially helpful on his burns…

"Take off your tee-shirt and lie down," Snape directed as he opened the jar. "It will be easier that way."

What was harder, on the other hand, Harry thought, was to not fall asleep.

Despite the potions, the marks on his back still burned. Like the last time that Vernon….when he'd… He didn't want to think about it. "I won't have to go back there again, will I?" he croaked out, half-asleep.

"Go back where, Harry?" the Potions master asked calmly.

"To the Dursleys. Vernon said Dumbledore wanted me to stay with them to punish me…but you won't let them, will you? You said I could stay here!"

He felt the fingers on his back tense for an instant, before resuming their gentle motion.

"No, Harry, you're not going anywhere. Dumbledore most certainly doesn't want to punish you, and it's out of the question for you to go back to that family of dengen… To your family."

"Vernon said he won the trial. To keep me. That Dumbledore didn't want me back at Hogwarts anymore. He has the right, I guess…" the boy sighed.

"Certainly not," Snape sighed in return. "None of that ever happened, Harry. It was…a macabre farce. The hearing was adjourned, obviously, after you were kidnapped."

"No, I saw them, I…he…you know it, you were helping them!" Harry said in cry of frustration.

"That was Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy in the guise of your uncle," Severus said as clearly as he could.

"I was at Privet Drive. In my room…and the cupboard. And Petunia and Dudley…" He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could. He didn't want to see Dudley's empty eyes again, his soul sucked out by Dementors, all because of him, all because….

Snape understood that he wasn't going to rectify this problem very quickly. He obviously should've waited. There was far too much to sort out, and Harry was still too confused, despite his surprising form that evening. He'd truly been impressed by the boy's capacity for surmounting all that he'd had to endure recently. But he mustn't try to go too quickly.

For now, what counted was to reassure him.

"Harry, I promised you I wouldn't leave you, and I intend to keep that promise. You're at home here. I wouldn't allow anyone to take you away against your will, or mine. Is that clear?" he asked.

He felt the boy's muscles relax bit by bit, as his words sank into his mind.

"You're my cat, after all," he said with an attempt at levity.

But Harry didn't laugh. He slowly turned his green eyes to him, and stared at him intently for what seemed like an eternity. Then he smiled, and Severus felt something settle in his chest, something that hadn't been there in a very, very long time.

The eyes closed again, but the smile lingered on the boy's drowsy face.

Severus continued to massage the back of his neck and shoulders for a moment, trying to unknot the muscles cramped by the tension of these past few days. How Harry was still able to find the courage to fall asleep so quickly was a mystery to Severus.

Pulling up the covers to tuck the boy in, Severus finally fell into his armchair.

Harry. His cat. What had the boy been thinking? Whatever it was, it clearly had been something positive.

Merlin, what was he to do about all of this?

But he wasn't worried. No, truly not worried. He knew he'd been right, that for once he'd done what had to be done.

Voldemort could very well blow a tornado around the Manor, and Albus could throw all the prophecies he'd like at Harry, but they couldn't change a thing about what tied him to the boy.

Nor what he felt for him.

Merlin, he was really too tired…

He got up and went to the boy again, running a hand through his hair as he murmured, "Shadow, become Shadow again."

His words must've touched Harry's subconscious, because an instant afterward, the black cat curled up in a ball on the pillow.

Satisfied, Severus hesitated over transfiguring his own armchair into a bed. No, that wouldn't be necessary. He was too tired to do it, in any case.

He fell heavily into the armchair, checking one last time that all the wards were in place, that the cat was sleeping peacefully, and then allowed his own body to succumb to sleep.

oooOOOooo

Though not for very long, it appeared, when he opened his eyes again.

Something was wrong. The storm outside seemed much more impressive, now that it was the dead of night, the leaves and broken branches knocking against the window panes, and the wind whipping in through the fireplace.

But that wasn't what had awakened him. He leapt up: Harry was in the middle of the room, his back to him, heading resolutely for the stairs leading to the park!

"Harry!"

The boy started, and turned around toward him. His face was immobile, expressionless, his eyes befuddled and vacant.

"Harry, where are you going?" Snape asked with all the calm he could muster.

The teenager turned back to the stairs, without seeming to move, though caught in a dilemma.

He had to go. He had to leave. If he stayed there any longer, something horrible was going to happen to Snape, to him, to everyone. Outside, everything would be fine, he knew it, the voice was telling him, over and over…

Snape swore to himself.

Bloody hell, how could he've forgotten that Harry often transformed in his sleep? Something was wrong with the boy's behavior, almost like a sleepwalker. Voldemort? Probably.

"Harry, come to me, please. You cannot go out, there's a storm outside."

Of course, he could, he had to go out. The storm wouldn't do anything to him, but if Snape got close to him, the man was going to suffer because of him; if he wanted to help Snape, he had to go out and stop Voldemort from continuing to harass him.

"Harry, please? Shadow?" Snape said in that gentle voice he'd not heard before this summer.

Snape. He wanted to listen to him; he knew he could trust him.

"Shadow?" Snape repeated.

Harry felt the familiar sensation of comfort wash over him, as he used his powers to find the cat within himself…but a portion of his powers absolutely didn't want him to, and struggled fiercely to stop him. It wasn't a lack of magic this time, but an excess, and a clash of powers!

He felt the tension grow inside himself, running through his entire body like electricity, trying to leave, to boil over, to fight…

Voldemort, the red eyes, the dungeon, Snape, the Manor, Lucius, the smell of potions, and Bellatrix who laughed and laughed, Snape who let him fall asleep, safely against him, who promised him he'd be there, Snape so tired; he had to fight, he'd done it before, he wouldn't let the professor down either!

This was _his_ Potions master!

Hand at his wand, Severus forced himself to stay still. He didn't know whether he wanted to run for the boy, or recoil from the flood of magic filling the room in violent shock waves, black and mauve, electrifying the air.

No, this wasn't only Harry, even if Snape could see the waves radiating from his entire body. From under the door and through the window pane, the fog entered like sand swept along by the wind, swirling helter-skelter throughout the room, fighting angrily to find a master.

"Harry, look at me, listen to me; you must get the upper hand; tell me what's happening!"

The response finally came, despairingly. "I have to go out!" Harry shouted. "He can't have you! I have to go out!"

"That's not your decision; keep him from accessing your mind, Harry, push him away! You must not listen to him!"

"You don't understand!" the boy groaned, torn between the two voices.

"The same thing happened at the Ministry, remember, he wanted you to go through the door and everything would be fine, but it was a lie, a trap! Fight, throw him out of your head! Now!"

"I don't want to lose you as well!" Harry shouted.

"I spent the day telling you again and again that I won't leave you. Must I make an Unbreakable Vow or sign a contract in good faith?" hissed the professor.

"But you're dying. If I don't stop him…."

"I'm not going to die, foolish child!" Snape took his turn to shout. "I'm simply tired; a bit of sleep will be enough to put me to rights, and my Mark is almost silent, now that the Dark Lord is focusing his powers on the storm! You're not obliged to save the world, for the love of Merlin! Nothing will happen to either of us, so long as you don't leave this place! If you go through that door, Harry, I'll be forced to follow you, and we'll both be in grave danger of dying!"

"No, you have to stay here!" Harry answered, struggling to clear his mind.

"I let you go to the Ministry alone; I'm not making the same mistake twice. For the hundredth time today, I will not leave you."

It was perhaps the hundredth time, but for Harry, it was the decisive one. Snape wouldn't leave him, and he wouldn't leave Snape—it was as simple as that. All that remained was to make the voice understand.

No, he had to make it leave…fight it….

Severus wasn't at the Ministry. He doesn't know. Oh, Harry, he doesn't need you; he's only doing this because he's required to…he's lying to you. He's been lying to you since the beginning.

No…

In the space of an instant, two red glittering eyes, and a scene, flashed through his mind.

Hogwarts, Dumbledore's office, and Snape was there, furious as he paced the room.

"It's out of the question for me to concern myself with this little brat any longer, Albus! I kept him with me because you required it, but it's done now; I don't want to hear anymore about it! It's bad enough to have to play the spy with the Dark Lord, but to pretend to put up with Potter on top of it all? You ask too much of me! Save him from the trap he's got himself mixed up in, or leave him to manage on his own—it's no longer my concern! Good riddance if he gets himself killed, he'll never be able to fulfill his destiny anyway—he much too stupid and incompetent!"

"Severus, he trusts you, and we must make use of that!" Dumbledore replied.

"You're asking too much of me. You know very well that he'll be of no use anyway. Leave him there where he is; we've already wasted too much time and energy on him. I'll not suffer his whinging a moment longer; I've never known a child as obnoxious and unlikable as that one!"

The vision faded away, and the laboratory reformed around him…more or less. The waves of magic swirled more furiously than ever, breaking against the walls to roll back again, making the surrounding air hazy.

The first thing he saw, just a few steps away, though, was Snape's face, watching him, his features etched with worry.

Snape. It would've been so easy to believe that vision a few weeks ago…even a few days ago.

But that scene had never taken place. He didn't doubt it for a second. Like Sirius tortured by Voldemort in the bowels of the Ministry, it had been created from start to finish to torment Harry. Once again.

But Voldemort had no right, no right to take it out on the professor, not after Sirius, not after all the others.

No, he wouldn't let Snape down, and that involved this vision as well.

Voldemort didn't have the right to sully Snape. He didn't have the right to take it out on him. On them. And Harry was going to let him know it. Boring his eyes into the professor's, he endeavored to summon it from deep inside of himself, all that he felt for the man who'd saved him and taken him in.

The hardship, the fear, the anxiety, the joy, the affection, the trust…

And all of a sudden it was too much. For Voldemort, for him…just too much. The presence in his head brutally fled with a scream of rage, and the air around him began to vibrate.

Too much. Too many things, too much time, too much pain, too many emotions, too much…

First it was the slight tinkling of crystal, then a combined noise of breaking glass, bursting forth as all the phials and window panes exploded, shooting hundreds of small shards of glass throughout the room.

Severus had very little time to think. He knew that Harry was doing battle with Voldemort for his powers, and now for the control of his mind. The Dark Lords' magic that had accumulated in Harry's body had probably made the intrusion easier.

Whatever he was trying to do, the boy had the upper hand. Severus could sense it by the tension in his face. He'd thrown him out, but the delicate balance between his mind and his powers had broken. Harry had brutally set them free, and all this accumulated power wasn't going to be content with just destroying glass….

The protective wards. Harry and Voldemort's combined magic, savagely released against his wards? He wasn't sure if even a Fidelius would still stand after that….

And Voldemort was outside, surrounded by his Death Eaters, ready to kill the boy. In the physical state of exhaustion in which Snape now found himself, he could hardly sustain more that a few moments of attack…even taking into account the fact that Voldemort had been weakened.

Before the shards of glass could even reach the floor or the boy, Severus had made his decision.

Drawing on the last of his strength, draining all his energy toward his powers and visualizing Harry, he spoke the only incantation he had the time to enunciate. "_Protego!"_

He had time to see an emerald-colored shield form around the boy, as his own body fell, as if in slow motion, onto the stone floor of the dungeon.

Ah well, yes, Lily, you were right. Nothing like a bit of sacrificial magic to solve a problem. Totally Gryffindor, of course….

When his head struck the floor, he was already unconscious, a slight smile at his lips. He was finally going to be able to sleep.

oooOOOooo

Everything had happened so quickly. Harry'd instinctively raised his arm to protect his face, when he heard the glass breaking across the room.

But before it could reach him, someone had shouted out something, and Harry found himself imprisoned by a green, iridescent ball that held back the shards of glass.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape collapse to the floor, and then the reality of what'd occurred struck him.

_Protego._ He'd shouted _Protego._

Merlin! What was happening? Protego wasn't supposed to create this type of phenomenon, and the one speaking it wasn't supposed to lose consciousness. At that instant, the shield surrounding him began to swell like a bubble, all the way to the dungeon walls that completely enclosed it. The green flash lasted an instant, before melting into the stone and disappearing.

Not bothering with the potions leaking out onto the floor around him, Harry rushed to the Potions master.

His face was perfectly still, his features relaxed for the first time since Harry'd known him. It wasn't possible, he couldn't be….

Feeling panic overtake him, Harry tried to find Snape's pulse. No, he couldn't have done this, he hadn't….

Harry let out a sigh of relief. Snape's heart was beating, and he was almost certain he saw the professor's chest rise slightly as he breathed.

He hesitated briefly…the potions were unusable now, and he didn't have the slightest idea of what could've happened to the professor.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, he undertook to try and rouse him. "Professor Snape?" he tried. "Please? Professor?"

Not the slightest sign of life.

Harry glanced desperately around him, looking keenly for something that could help him. Come to think of it, he wasn't all that sure he wanted the professor to wake up right away. The dungeon was a disaster; the table as well as the floor were covered with liquids and ingredients, most of them not seeming to appreciate their proximity to each other.

A less than inviting smoke rose up from the floor, and the wood of the table seemed to poorly withstand contact with the potions that'd covered it.

Best to get Snape on his feet quickly. Harry hesitated for an instant. He could've probably carried the professor to the bed, but he risked worsening his own wounds that way.

"Sorry, you surely wouldn't approve, but I really don't have a choice," he murmured. He grabbed Severus' wand from the floor and pointed it at its owner.

"_Mobilicorpus."_

In a second, he'd placed the professor's inanimate body onto the bed. He hesitated over whether or not to place his wand beside him, before finally slipping it into his belt. If he had to defend himself, it'd be best if he at least had a chance.

Once again, he wasn't entirely certain that Snape would've approved of seeing his student borrow a wand…but he didn't have to inform him of that, did he?

He certainly didn't need to know that Harry had rolled up his sleeve one more time to see how painful his Mark was.

Painful enough, the boy concluded at the sight of the black scar, its borders still a bright red. Voldemort hadn't left his post.

Another look around him told him several things.

First, the tornado of magic that had run rampart in the laboratory was now calm. And as a result, the storm blowing outside seemed to have subsided as well.

Oh really? Subsided? Voldemort had expressed himself enough for now, so he mustn't have seen the point of continuing to threaten them this way.

Harry felt a flush of anger rise to his face. The dungeon, his refuge, was devastated, and Snape was there, obviously unconscious for a while, because of the half-living, half-dead wizard trying to steal his powers!

If Voldemort wanted to play it that way, he wasn't going to be disappointed. Harry certainly wasn't in any frame of mind to let him regain his strength. Snape's spell was perhaps no longer active, but Harry could feel the waves of power coursing through his body, and he felt in full possession of his abilities!

Snape wouldn't be there to support him this time, but it was his turn to protect the professor.

Once and for all.

Harry took a deep breath and got ready to refortify his defenses, when his eyes came to rest once more on the ex-Death Eater's forearm.

A mistake. The man had done the same thing as well, after all. Still, the advice he'd given seemed to make good sense…

No rage. No impulsiveness. One could win a battle and lose one's soul.

Harry felt his throat constrict. He had the will, the courage and the strength…but he didn't have the self-control.

Had Snape lacked it as well, the day he'd chosen to have this Mark placed on him? One thing was certain: Harry couldn't let himself ignore Snape's warnings, not after what he'd just done for him…

No rage. He took a deep breath, and then another. He was doing this to save both of them. Because he couldn't sit and do nothing. Because he had a chance of winning.

He was doing it because it was his duty.

Securing the locks to his mind, one by one, he began again to draw on the magic he still felt around him. Slowly, without impulsiveness…without rage.

I promise you, Professor, without rage.

Through the window, he could see the stars slowly shift in the sky as the night deepened. There was nothing left of the storm, and he felt the bits of magic he was absorbing become more and more resistant and desperate to return to their master.

But the more he acquired them, the less effort the task required. Snape was right, though; he probably couldn't deplete all of the black wizard's magic. He didn't even intend to try to break through the last barrier. After the demonstration of the night before, it seemed too risky to try that alone…

That didn't stop him from trying his best to empty Voldemort of his resources. There was still that to occupy him, wasn't there?

He would've really liked for Snape to wake up, though. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen, once the effects of the potion wore off. Were they going to find themselves suddenly cut off from one another's powers?

Why was it all of the sudden so easy for him to take the Dark Lord's powers?

The sun was just rising when a movement in the fireplace made Harry jump to his feet. The telltale noise of Floo powder rang out, and the black wand was in Harry's hand before he had time to think.

The intruder entered the dungeon confidently, though, and his green robes had scarcely become visible when Harry understood why: hadn't Dumbledore said that he was the only one who could enter the Manor without being invited?

The boy took a step backward, without lowering his wand. The Headmaster froze in front of the fireplace, his eyes both pained and understanding. "Harry, my boy, I'm happy to see that you're safe and sound. What's happened to Severus?" he asked as he took a step toward the bed.

He had no chance to go any farther.

"Stay where you are! Don't go near him or you'll regret it! And don't think I won't do it, not after…" Harry clenched his teeth, his hand clutching the wand, his eyes boring into the Headmaster's blue ones.

"That's completely unnecessary, Harry, I have no intention of harming either you or Professor Snape; however, it seems urgent that he be examined."

"Not by you. Go back to where you came from; I won't let you touch him," the boy hissed.

"Harry, that's entirely irrational…"

"Don't go near him. Leave us alone!" Harry said determinedly, his eyes more threatening than ever.

"This is very regrettable, my boy, but you leave me no choice," Dumbledore answered, before reaching a hand out to him.

_Wandless magic…and nonverbal_, Harry had the time to think, before seeing the spell bounce off of him and slam into the walls, which immediately turned green.

"Sacrificial magic," Dumbledore murmured, clearly shocked. "Oh, Severus…."

He cast a glance full of regret at the Potions master lying on the bed, then turned his attention to the teenager coming toward him, wand in hand and eyes full of fury.

"You have three seconds," Harry hissed. "Don't ever set foot in here again, or I swear you'll pay dearly!"

"It's not what you think, my boy, but I believe it's actually preferable for me to go back now. Madam Pomfrey will send you some potions at once. When Severus awakens…could you tell him to contact me straight away?"

Harry didn't answer, his jaw clenched and clearly only a hair's-breadth away from casting a spell at the Headmaster.

Nodding, Dumbledore finally decided to throw another handful of Floo powder, and stepped into the fireplace with one last worried look at the professor. "Harry, I beg you, don't hesitate to call me for even the slightest problem. The situation has turned out well and…."

But Harry'd had enough. Murmuring a spell, he pointed the wand at the Headmaster's chest; the man disappeared in flames, propelled by force of the blast.

The boy smiled. He was fairly sure that this time Snape wouldn't have disapproved of Harry using his wand.

With a sigh, he sat in the armchair. Dumbledore was right about one thing, though; the professor needed healing. He didn't seem to have been injured by his fall or by the glass, but his comatose state couldn't be a good sign. Harry himself really didn't feel all that well, he realized.

The potions had stopped having any effect, which his entire body reminded him of painfully. There was really no point in listening to it, though, as all the potions were now in the process of eating away at the stone floor.

If only Snape could wake up… Whom else could he call? Not the Weasleys, all dead. Not the Order, for the same reason. Certainly not Dumbledore or McGonagall, and Remus was far away on a mission…

"Professor? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you hear me," he tried, vaguely remembering a first-aid course back in primary school.

Here too, no response. In fact, the professor didn't even seem to be sleeping; his face was much too placid, his body much too still and relaxed; he almost seemed to be dead…

Harry was on the verge of considering going through Snape's bedchamber in search of a potion, when green flames appeared once again in the fireplace.

Feeling his anger grip him, Harry pointed his wand at the grate, ready to cast a spell at the first one who dared to step over the hearth.

But the wait was in vain, as no one tried to force their way through, and when the flames died away, Harry could see a large wicker basket filled to the top with various potions, all labeled.

There was a note from Madam Pomfrey with them:

_Mister Potter,_

_Not able to come myself to examine Professor Snape, and given that you've not allowed the Headmaster to do so, you are going to have to do the work yourself._

_Professor Dumbledore assured me that the patient's vital functions are intact, and that no outward injury was apparent; so, I recommend that you have the professor drink a stabilization and healing potion, if in doubt._

_You'll perhaps judge it useful to also give him a Pepperup or a Dreamless Sleep, as needed. For Merlin's sake, Potter, do your best and keep me up to date; Severus is sufficiently immunized against all sorts of toxins, so that you won't risk poisoning him!_

_If at any point you have reason to suspect something serious, _immediately stop acting like a child,_ and alert the Headmaster before it's too late!_

_Need I really insist on this point?_

_Make good use of the potions._

_Poppy Pomfrey_

So, then, Dumbledore had had time to verify that Snape wasn't in real danger. That shouldn't have surprised him, obviously.

But Pomfrey was right; he shouldn't risk the professor's life… If he didn't see any improvement between now and noon, he'd come up with a excuse and call the Headmaster for reinforcements. Which wouldn't keep him from holding him at wand's-length.

After all, Dumbledore hadn't seemed able to attack him—an interesting development! But what had he meant by sacrificial magic? What exactly had Snape done by casting a Protego?

Harry shook his head. There were more urgent matters…the potions. He rummaged through the large assortment of bottles, looking for what might be useful. Madam Pomfrey had suggested a stabilization and healing potion, which seemed completely logical.

All that remained was how to make the professor swallow them.

Ill at ease, Harry went back to his bedside. Remembering the way Snape had done with him, he sat by his head and awkwardly tried to sit him up. The Potions master didn't resist, of course. Supporting his head, Harry carefully opened his jaws and emptied the contents of the phials down the unconscious professor's throat.

"I suspect you're going to hate me for that," the boy murmured.

Pepperup potion would probably be welcome, but considering the empty phials lying at the bottom of the bed, Snape had already greatly abused it; an overdose was really the last thing he needed. If his memory was correct, it took four hours for this potion to wear off. The usefulness of Potions homework suddenly occurred to him like a revelation.

No, Potions wasn't just a boring, uninteresting class; it really had a real-life application…who would've believed it? A wave of regret ran through him. So much time wasted, complaining about Snape, instead of applying himself to classes that could save lives…one more thing he should tell the man when he awakened.

That…and thank you. Again.

But for now, he couldn't see anything else to do but wait. Carefully lowering the professor's head to the pillow, he took up his place in the armchair and took his turn to drink down several potions. A healing potion and one for pain couldn't do any harm, that's what Snape would've given him, after all.

Relatively satisfied with the result, he settled himself comfortably amongst the cushions and prepared once again to take up the silent fight against Voldemort.

Calm and straightforward. He could do it.

And he did. Hours passed by slowly, smoothly, the magic gliding toward him without interruption. He could sense it weakening, and felt a feeling of triumph steal over him: maybe he was going to be able to vanquish Voldemort after all. Perhaps it wouldn't be any harder than this, sitting in an armchair and calmly changing Voldemort into a Squib! Without magic, his Death Eaters would desert him, and he would quickly be captured, probably killed.

What if it were as simple as that?

It was almost noon when a thick fog began to form around the window. Harry'd already noticed this phenomenon before, but this time, he felt a shudder run through him, forcing him to break his concentration.

It was time to take additional potions anyway…but what could have given him this bad feeling all of a sudden, this anxiety that seized him by the throat?

He went to Snape, who still hadn't moved. No apparent change…the professor seemed neither better nor worse. Harry still couldn't help but feel nervous; something was wrong, and the feeling was becoming more pronounced.

Trying to ignore his anxiety, he began to make Snape drink his potions. Healing, stabilization…and two Pepperups wouldn't be too much. After all, Pomfrey had expressly said he wasn't in danger of poisoning him!

This time, it seemed as if something worked. The wizard's face tensed slightly, making him look more like the professor whom Harry knew. His eyelids fluttered, as if he were dreaming.

"Professor?" Harry tried.

No reaction. Perhaps it was a bit too soon. Even so, he wasn't pleased by that. He went toward the window to take a better look at the fogginess surrounding the Manor. Suddenly it was really cold, though it was still noon, in the middle of summer.

And all of a sudden Harry understood. The revelation left him breathless and his entire body froze.

Dementors. Voldemort was calling Dementors to the rescue, and he was gathering them around the Manor, probably as close as the wards would allow him.

He couldn't get in, at least Harry didn't think so, but all of them assembled around the property, the effect of it would be enough to make him lose his wits! He didn't want…he couldn't….

Oh, Merlin, Snape! He had to wake up!

The sound of groaning broke into his thoughts. He turned toward the Potions master, full of hope. Although still unconscious, the professor seemed to have emerged from the coma in which he'd been for hours. His head hanging down, he seemed trapped in a

nightmare, a matter in which the Dementors were surely not innocent.

Harry came closer, torn between curiosity and worry. Snape seemed to be mumbling something, but Harry couldn't make out the words.

He felt an icy sweat break out on his back when the echo of a woman's scream rang out deep in his memory. And when he bent over to hear the words Snape was saying, he felt the rest of his body chill as well.

"Lily…no…not Lily…I beg you…"

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be that. Snape couldn't be dreaming of the same thing as Harry right now, could he?

But the images of the green light and a young woman named Lily, begging for her life, swept through his mind in a flash, and Harry could feel the almost familiar despair steal over him. If only Snape would wake up….

"Lily… Harry…let him alone, you have no right, not Harry…."

Harry felt his legs crumple beneath him. Snape was dreaming of him. Having a nightmare of someone hurting him. Snape. Him. Even more than the reference to his mother, these last words left him speechless.

The Dementors no longer existed, no more than the dungeon or Voldemort.

Snape's hand closed into a fist, and Harry saw himself take it in his own to open and look at it.

The same hand that had rested on his forehead for hours, as he'd fought for his powers. The hand that had taken care of him.

A moan escaped from Harry's lips, but he didn't know if it was out of despair that the Dementors were seeping into his soul, or out of a relief so huge that it supplanted everything else.

"Professor, please, wake up."

Snape groaned again, but his eyes remained closed.

The fog outside was becoming denser and denser, and was now oozing into the laboratory through the window with the broken pane, lapping at the stone walls of the dungeon.

Harry had to do something _now._

Grabbing Snape's wand, he pointed it at the fog. "_Expecto Patronum!"_

A stag erupted at once, off toward the fog at a gallop, pushing it out of the dungeon before disappearing into the park in the pursuit of Dementors.

Harry felt the oppressive sensation that was gripping him draw back a bit, but the feeling didn't last. He didn't know how many Dementors were gathered outside, but if Voldemort had called them in as reinforcements, he could expect that the entire staff of Azkaban was about to hold its annual conference at the Manor entrance! His Patronus, as successful as it'd been, wouldn't keep them all away for very long.

Indeed, a few minutes later, the fine fog mounted a fresh attack, and Harry felt his throat constrict. Beside him, Snape was restless in his sleep as well.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Harry cried out again, with more conviction this time.

The reprieve lasted longer than before, but inevitably, the fogginess seeped once again into their hide-out.

An hour and numerous Patronuses later, Harry felt exhausted and close to despair. He wasn't going to be able to do it, there were too many of them, and he was too weak.

But at least he was trying. With a hand that trembled slightly, he lifted the black wand again, and opened his mouth to speak the incantation, but it was a shout that he let out, when he sensed something close suddenly around his fingers.

He quickly turned and then froze, his mouth hanging open. The wand's rightful owner was looking at him, a slight smile on his face, looking more exhausted than ever, but wide awake this time.

"Professor!"

Snape slowly nodded without loosening his grip. He looked up toward the window, trying to get used to the light. "What time is it?" he asked.

Caught off guard, Harry stared at him. Why would the time be important at all? "It's the beginning of the afternoon; it must be two or so," he finally answered.

Snape nodded again. "That's fine."

"Excuse me?" the boy stammered.

"In a few hours, the potion will lose its effect. Everything will be fine," Snape said, his voice strangely calm.

Harry blinked several times, staring at the professor's face. He didn't know precisely why, since the Dementors' fog was once again threatening to enter the laboratory, but he believed him. Yes, everything would be fine.

Struck with remorse, he cast a guilty look around the room. "I'm so sorry," he said quickly. "Your laboratory. I think I decimated everything."

To Harry's great surprise, Snape laughed softly, almost soundlessly, but a laugh all the same.

"You're not hurt?"

Harry shook his head. "No, when you cast that spell, it was like…I don't know, a green bubble surrounded me, before smashing into the walls. They were green for a moment, but that didn't last, until Dumbledore attacked me and then…"

"Dumbledore?" Snape asked, all trace of humor gone from his face.

"He came a little while after you lost consciousness," Harry explained with an apologetic look. "When I didn't want him to go near you, he cast a spell at me, but it was strange, because it bounced off me and then hit the walls, and they turned green again."

Snape nodded thoughtfully.

"After that," Harry went on, "Madam Pomfrey sent some potions through the Floo. A stockpile of them, but I wasn't sure which I should give you. I, er, I made you drink a healing and stabilization potion, and two Pepperups."

"Perfect. One more wouldn't be too much, I think," Snape said, helping himself to the basket.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked worriedly. "I mean, you'd already taken a lot, before…"

Snape shot him an ironic look, his eyebrow raised.

"Obviously you know better than I," Harry added quickly.

"So it would seem." The professor's eyes drifted back to the wand that the boy still had a hold of.

Harry felt himself blush, and he held it out to him. "I didn't have anything else handy," he apologized.

Snape took hold of the wand and studied it thoughtfully for a moment. "Were you able to use it?"

Harry answered with a nod.

Without a word, Snape stuck a hand into his robes and pulled out an object, which he then handed to Harry.

His wand.

The boy took it with a smile. "It was there all along?" he asked.

Snape nodded. "Dumbledore found it at the Ministry where it'd been dropped, and I kept it, waiting for you to be in shape to use it."

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling again. "I missed it." Actually, he'd thought it lost. Snape's wand had worked, but it simply wasn't the same thing.

Despite everything, he couldn't help but feel a vague anxiety spread through him. "Professor, I think I need…" He motioned with his head towards the fog creeping progressively into the laboratory.

The professor handed him a potion, and Harry swore inside himself. He should've thought of it earlier; clearly Snape wasn't the only one who needed a Pepperup.

An instant later, he felt himself calm again when he faced the window. Without a word, Snape came to stand at his side, and graced him with a half-smile that gave Harry even more energy than the potion had.

Together, they lifted their wands and incanted with a single shout.

A moment afterward, a stag and a doe leapt out, shoulder to shoulder, onward toward the park, pushing back the fog and the cold sensation around them.

Harry turned to Snape, and could finally ask the question that he'd so much wanted to ask that day.

"And now?"

Snape nodded toward the bed. "Now, we wait."

Comfortably situated on the mattress, safe from the Dementors, the two wizards remained silent for a moment, surveying the laboratory.

With a few incantations, Snape had cleaned and repaired most of the damage, and the dungeon once again resembled a potentially inhabitable room.

"Professor," Harry said at last, "the spell that showed my magical aura disappeared, and I'm wondering where my powers are?"

Pointing his wand at Harry, Severus murmured the incantation again. Both of them were silent for a moment, in face of the color emanating from the younger wizard.

"Is…is that a good sign?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"It's impressive, to say the least," Snape replied. "You've probably depleted the Dark Lord's principal magical reserves. At his highest potential, his own aura would be black. The mauve around you is very close to that."

"Do you think I could finish him off before the potion loses effect?" asked the boy.

"Probably not. As I told you, to completely tear away a wizard's last bit of magic requires considerable energy. Voldemort could do it, but it'd be too dangerous for you in the state you're in," Severus explained.

"But…" Harry tried.

'"But you've done excellent work. It will take him some time to regain all his strength again."

"I don't understand why he's staying there instead of going away," murmured the boy. "I don't think I'd be able to take his powers if he were far away."

"At the beginning, he most likely stayed because he thought he could recover them. When it was your Patronus that went on the attack against the Dementors, he probably understood that I wasn't in any shape to fight, and he thought he could reverse the situation. A mistake, obviously," Snape said with satisfaction. "And now…"

"You think he's left?" asked Harry, full of hope. He'd actually felt lighthearted for the past several moments.

"The Dementors couldn't come onto the property, in any case, and our two Patronuses were sufficient to scatter them far enough to lesson their influence. They no longer have any interest in staying. On the other hand, I'm ready to wager that a good number of the Death Eaters are on the lookout nearby."

Harry allowed himself a smile. Because they were safe, weren't they? They'd done it. Really.

The remainder of the afternoon passed by peaceably, Snape seeming to clearly have trouble getting his strength back, and preferring to sit in his armchair as he questioned Harry on his classes…making him put the repaired phials in order.

Wand in hand, the boy obeyed, as he carefully avoided thinking of anything else. When the sun was just about to set, he'd almost forgotten his nervousness and how anxious the day had made him.

He was placing a series of bottles in the cupboard when he felt his muscles stiffen all of a sudden, before relaxing, his legs suddenly weak as jelly. Falling to the floor, he felt every fiber of his body begin to glow, as if charged with electricity, before subsiding, leaving him feeling more peaceful and whole than he had in days.

The storm that had never really abated in his head finally stopped, and his entire body seemed to synch into place, like a completed puzzle.

Snape came to him, and Harry took the hand he held down to help him up. "What happened?" he asked.

"The potion no longer has any effect. Your powers are back in place, and won't be moved again. Or I should say, rather, your new powers," Snape replied.

"They'll really stay. His powers, I mean?"

"Yes," Snape agreed. "You've probably just doubled your own magical level. It's something that will take some time for you to master, though. You've just managed a most singular feat. Harry. I think Voldemort will think twice before he attempts an attack of this sort on you in the future!"

"But his powers?" the boy insisted.

"His magical level is low right now, but it's just a sort of temporary depletion. He'll get it back with time and care. The change in you, on the other hand, is permanent. What I don't know is what effect these new powers will have on you; we'll have to keep a careful watch on that."

"If only I'd had these powers before," Harry murmured. "If only I could've done something."

"What you've done is already extraordinary, Harry; you don't seem to realize this," Snape said with a frown.

"But it's far too late, now that they're all dead. I could've saved them, if only…."

Severus grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and forced Harry to look at him, putting as much conviction into his words as he could. "Harry, listen to me well this time: all that you saw during your captivity never happened; no one wants to get rid of you, and no one is dead!"

But as the boy stared at him, troubled and mournful, a burst of green flames illuminated the dungeon; Dumbledore's head and chest appeared in the fireplace.

"Unfortunately, my boy, I'm afraid someone is."

* * *

a big thank to Raewhit for the translation, that was a long chapter ! and happy new year to you all !so yes, this Protego thing was my little idea, it may not look like a big deal now, but trust me... it will matter !I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and yes, a lot more to come, I promise ;-)


	23. Chapter 23 Fiat Lux

Chapter Twenty-three: Fiat Lux

_"Harry, listen to me well this time: all that you saw during your captivity never happened; no one wants to get rid of you, and no one is dead!"_

_But as the boy stared at him, troubled and mournful, a burst of green flames illuminated the dungeon; Dumbledore's head and chest appeared in the fireplace._

_"Unfortunately, my boy, I'm afraid someone is."_

As Severus instinctively took hold of the boy's shoulder, his first thought was, 'Merlin, don't let it be the Weasleys, or Lupin, or anyone whom Harry considers his family!'

His next thought was expressed aloud, and in a much more accusatory tone than he would've liked. "Is this really the time, Albus?"

The headmaster sighed as he took a step forward into the dungeon. Right away, Harry leapt backward, his wand in his hand in the space of a second, pointed at the old wizard.

"Harry!" Snape growled, surprised by his reaction. Obviously, the boy's belligerent side once again had the upper hand.

"I warned you not to come back!" Harry grumbled without dropping his guard.

"There's a good reason why the Headmaster is the only one able to enter without invitation," Snape said dryly. "I trust him completely, and he's welcome here. A bit of decorum, Harry, put your wand away immediately! I will not tolerate my guests being treated in this manner!"

Harry blushed slightly and lowered his wand, although he kept it in his hand.

Snape nodded at him approvingly, then turned to Dumbledore. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your distance," he said curtly.

The Headmaster raised a conciliatory hand. "Harry, I deeply regret what happened yesterday. The situation, as well as Professor Snape's condition, spurred me on to handle things in a highly inappropriate fashion, and I'm afraid I reacted in the very worst way. I beg you to accept my apology. I'm glad to see you're doing better, Severus."

Snape nodded, watching Harry out of the corner of his eye. "Might I know precisely what went on between the two of you? I hardly appreciate having to play the arbitrator," the Potions master said coldly, before sudden realization struck; this was probably how the Headmaster had felt all those years, when Snape and Potter were continually at one another's throats. He suddenly felt a rush of sympathy for the old man.

Perhaps the old wizard's patience and endurance were in keeping with his reputation after all.

"Perhaps we could settle in a bit more comfortably," Dumbledore suggested. "It appears there are several things that must be discussed."

"In the sitting room," Severus said as he gestured to the stairway.

The three of them headed for the heavy wooden door, the Headmaster leading the way. Snape wisely insinuated himself between Dumbledore and Harry, giving the latter a warning look in passing as they started up the stairway. Harry made a face, but followed them. He was going to be well-mannered, yes, but if Dumbledore dared to try anything…Harry was going to quickly demonstrate his quick reflexes!

Severus had apparently not been mistaken; short of having done serious damage, the storm had broken several window panes, and the debris of glass and broken things littered the sitting room floor.

Harry thoughtfully realized that he'd never before had the occasion to spend time in this room…everything really centered around the dungeon, evidently. The sitting room was somberly but tastefully furnished in a rather impersonal style, compared to the Dursleys, or most other families.

But clearly Snape didn't have family, did he? None that Harry knew about anyway. None worth hanging a photograph on the wall, not a single useless knick-knack given by friends or an elderly aunt. Actually, the furniture almost seemed as if it'd never been used.

Now that he thought about it, that was probably the case.

The master of the dwelling murmured a few incantations, and the sitting room's tidy appearance was restored. With a gesture, he pointed the Headmaster to a chair, before casting a soothing look at Harry.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry sat nervously in the armchair farthest away from the Headmaster, his wand still in his hand.

"Does the news require that I break out a bottle of firewhisky?" Snape asked when everyone was settled in.

"That would hardly be reasonable," Dumbledore sighed. "We're going to need every bit of our clear-mindedness for this conversation, I'm afraid."

Without a word, Snape went to sit at Harry's side.

"Is it necessary to draw out the suspense any longer, Albus?" Snape asked.

"Actually, a bit of context would be rather helpful. Perhaps we might review the events of the past three days?"

Snape groaned, but waved a hand for him to continue.

Dumbledore turned and calmly looked at Harry.

How had these kind blue eyes been able to show so much contempt and cruelty that day in his office? Harry wondered, ill at ease. It was almost fascinating…

Harry blinked, suddenly aware of having stared at the Headmaster for what had to be a long moment. The old man hadn't budged, continuing to scrutinize him with those gentle and reassuring eyes that had often calmed Harry.

Not today, though. Harry turned nervously to Snape, who was watching him as well, motionless. The nod Snape gave him was almost imperceptible, but Harry caught it, if only for the fact that the man was on his guard, ready to jump up at any moment, whether to protect him or keep him from making a move he'd regret.

The boy relaxed noticeably, and answered him with a slight movement of his chin, before turning to Dumbledore again. He'd never thought to see the day where he'd count on Snape to protect him from the Headmaster.

The sparkling in the Headmaster's eyes was completely familiar this time, with something like mirth and a certain satisfaction…

And a gleam that annoyed Harry. Did the Headmaster find the situation funny? Well, he didn't. Really, he didn't.

Dumbledore must've noticed something, because in his most serious voice, he began to speak again. "Harry, do you remember your return to Hogwarts?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, stopped in his tracks. Which one? The one when Dumbledore and McGonagall had attacked him, or the one when Snape had protected him? Because _that _was indeed the question.

But the professor had told him that none of that had really happened. Still, he could remember it perfectly….. Curling up slightly in his chair, Harry let out a noncommittal groan.

"Professor Snape took you back to the castle, and Madam Pomfrey tried to heal you the best she could. Unfortunately, the situation became more complicated when Voldemort and the Death Eaters surrounded the castle. The Ministry's emissaries were expected the next day, and it would've been unwise to keep you at Hogwarts, so Professor Snape proposed to bring you here. Do you remember that visit to Hogwarts, Harry?"

"Not really," the boy replied. "I remember you were there, both of you, and waking up for a moment…hmmm. I knew it wasn't here, but I didn't recognize Hogwarts."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly. "It appeared that Voldemort was continuing to steal your powers. At that time, he was on guard in the Forbidden Forest, and we thought distance would keep him from carrying on. Was that indeed the case?" the Headmaster asked, turning to Snape this time.

"We had no chance to find that out. Riddle quickly followed us here," the Potions master answered.

"That's exactly what was reported," Dumbledore murmured. "What I don't know is how Voldemort was able to locate you so quickly."

"Most likely due to the connection between his and Harry's minds, reinforced by the Theft of Magic potion. Thanks to that, he sensed that Harry was at Hogwarts, and would've detected his absence in the same way. I presume he made a quick trip to the Burrow and Privet Drive before coming here."

"Actually," Dumbledore said, "the Death Eaters were spotted near the Burrow. So, that's how Voldemort was able to sense your magic in spite of the Fidelius charm. I assume he didn't succeed in getting what he wanted?"

"He tried," Snape said irritably. "But Harry reversed the process and captured the Dark Lord's powers before the potion stopped working. Voldemort will regroup, but it will take him a while to regain his normal level of magic. As for Harry, he's increased in strength, quite clearly."

The little note of pride in his voice didn't escape Dumbledore's notice, who stayed silent for a moment, considering this news. It would appear that this was a turn of events that the Headmaster hadn't foreseen, something else that would also have to be dealt with…

"Severus, when I came to see you last night to bring you the latest news, you were unconscious, although in good keeping, I must admit. Alastor reported to me that a cadre of Death Eaters had formed in the vicinity of your Manor. Is there a relation between the two?"

"Hardly. The Dementors were there to support Voldemort's efforts to steal Mister Potter's magic. They couldn't enter the property, but their magic was strong enough to reach us, given their numbers. However, my condition was a different matter altogether. Harry reversed the magic-stealing process and took back both his own and Riddle's, but he needed my strength as well to do that," Snape explained.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry startle in his armchair.

"Your strength?" Harry asked, his voice choked.

Snape sighed. Best to get it over with right away. "Harry, the powers you were absorbing were truly those of Voldemort. But he'd also stolen your strength, and you took it back where you were able to find it. As I was the person closest to you physically, it was mine you drained."

Harry paled at these words. "That's why you were so tired; I thought it was Voldemort attacking your through the Mark. I didn't know…you should've have let me…"

"It was important. And a good thing, in any case," Snape said, looking directly into his eyes. "I did it completely willingly, Harry, you have nothing to reproach yourself for. I didn't even give you a choice."

The boy didn't answer, but pressed himself a bit more deeply into the armchair.

"So that most likely explains the phenomenon that occurred when I wanted to disarm Harry," Dumbledore continued.

"Meaning?" Snape asked as he narrowed his eyes.

"I regret to say that I made a very unfortunate move against Harry when I arrived at the Manor last night. Harry, you were very hostile towards me, and you refused to let me near Severus to examine him. I thought it necessary to force things by casting an _Expelliarmus_ at you, a mistaken decision in every way. The spell bounced off you without effect, and the walls responded in a characteristic fashion…for sacrificial magic."

His statement was met with silence.

"You surely shouldn't have attacked Harry," Snape finally replied. "But it's good to know that the spell reacted to the slightest threat."

"Protego," Harry murmured. "That's what you cast. But why? How? I mean, that isn't supposed to…I don't understand."

Snape let out a resigned groan. "When you found yourself in danger after making the glass in the laboratory explode, I no longer had enough strength to protect you adequately. That's why I cast that incantation, so that it would be useful in a different way, by sacrificing my strength and my magic. It's an ancient magic, which has already been proven. It's now tied to the walls that sealed the sacrifice, and to you, whatever attack you find yourself the victim of."

"You could've died," Harry murmured.

"No need to be melodramatic, Potter. I'm here and fully alive, as you can see. This spell was but a weak replica of the one that'd already saved your life."

"But it was a possibility, wasn't it?" Harry insisted.

"That's the idea behind a sacrifice, yes. Everything, to the very end, whatever the price. But there was little chance of that really happening…"

The boy stared at him, his eyes wide, and Severus noticed that his hands were shaking on the arm of the chair. He was getting ready to reassure him, when Dumbledore cleared his throat to speak again.

"And it's fortunate thing, Severus. I'm very grateful to you for your devotion. I must confess that I didn't in any way expect this possibility. Unfortunately, this new battle has already brought about some deaths."

_Count on Albus to raise the troops' morale!_ Snape thought. Before he realized….

"Deaths? Plural?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "As I told you earlier, the Death Eaters indeed went to the Burrow. The Weasley family was there, as well as Tonks and Alastor. After a brief confrontation, they were withdrawn, without causing any casualties.

"They gathered around Hogwarts as well, Grimmauld Place, Snape Manor and Privet Drive. The Dursleys had refused Ministry protection, believing themselves protected by their new ally, but Kingsley was tasked with posting a guard in the likely event of a reversal in the situation. When the group of Death Eaters reformed at the Manor, however, he judged that there was no longer any reason to fear for their safety."

Harry had paled even more, if that were possible, and Snape arose silently to go and stand behind his armchair, his hands on Harry's shoulders. The boy didn't even seem to notice, his eyes fixed on the Headmaster.

"He was wrong," Dumbledore finished with a sigh. "Voldemort seems to have decided that the Dursleys hadn't fulfill their part of the bargain by handing you over to him. I'm sorry, Harry, all three of them are dead."

Snape's hands tightened on Harry's shoulders, as a long moan escaped from the boy's lips.

_Good, at least one thing that I'll not have to do,_ the Potions master thought at first. But of course, he was wrong. The Durseleys' deaths would only reinforce Harry's sense of guilt, and that was going to complicate his task considerably.

It was a shame: the one time that Voldemort decided to make himself useful, really.

Wordlessly, Snape sat on the arm of the chair, without letting go of Harry, who was now wracked with nervous trembling.

"How?" the boy finally asked.

"Avada Kedavra," Dumbledore replied. "They didn't suffer…"

"How could you know that?" Harry hissed between his teeth. "Maybe he tortured them beforehand!"

"I doubt it."

"They'd not done a thing to him! He had no reason to do that…this…this…"

Snape was rather of the opposite opinion, but he kept himself from saying it. "I deduce from this that the question of my Harry kidnapping has been sorted out?" he asked.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "The Ministry concluded, in all urgency, given the situation, that Harry had been taken in by you after he'd run away, and not kidnapped, and that he couldn't be returned to his family for obvious reasons of security."

"So you still have enough influence at the Ministry to carry that out, Albus?" Snape asked skeptically.

"That and then some, my boy. Because the demise of the Dursleys raises a new problem, that of Harry's guardianship."

Harry let out a small gasp. "Why? No, I don't want to go back there."

Dumbledore shot him a compassionate look. "No, Harry, you will not go back there. That's finished now. They won't be able to do anything else to you."

"But you want me to go there! I know it! Vernon told me you asked him to!"

"I'm not sure I understand…" Dumbledore began, before being interrupted by Snape.

"They're dead, Harry," he said calmly. "Your uncle, your aunt and your cousin. You'll never see them again. They can't do anything to you. But you're still not of age, and you must be placed under someone's guardianship. That's what the Headmaster is trying to tell you."

Harry looked at him, dazed.

Snape had never claimed to be an expert in psychology, but he would've hoped better of the old man…obviously, he must've been as worn out as Snape by the days they'd just gone through.

"The burial?" Harry suddenly asked.

"It took place yesterday," Dumbledore said gently.

"I should've been there…"

"That was impossible and you know it," Snape said, gently kneading his shoulder. "You'll go to see their graves as soon as it's safe, if you wish."

Once again, the boy let out a long moan. "Yes…but before…I have to go see the…"

Snape sighed. He'd expected it, but he would've preferred to put it off until later. "Albus, how are the Weasleys faring?"

If the Headmaster was surprised by the question, he didn't show a thing. "Very well, thank you. Arthur and Molly are at the Burrow with the children, and Miss Granger has joined them there. They're a bit shaken up by recent events, but anxious to see you again, Harry."

But Harry didn't appear to have heard him, sunken deep in his chair, his eyes vacant.

"They offered to watch over you, Harry…unfortunately, that wouldn't have been wise, for reasons of security."

"And who, then, is Mister Potter's new legal guardian?" Snape asked, annoyed by the suspense.

"It's only a matter of temporary guardianship, while waiting for everything to be sorted out and until the Ministry representatives are able to meet with Harry. The Ministry wanted the Minister himself to take responsibility for Harry, but I was able to convince them to change their minds, and to confide this charge to me."

Harry sat up in his chair, all his muscles tensed, searching the Headmaster's eyes.

"Until further notice, I'm your guardian, Harry!" he said enthusiastically.

"No!" Harry jumped to his feet this time. "No, no, no!"

"Harry, calm yourself…' Snape began.

"I want to go back downstairs, please!" the boy urged, his eyes flashing.

"Harry…."

"Please, there's too much light…"

Severus motioned with his head, and the boy took off at a run for the hallway. An instant later, a door slammed, and the two wizards looked at each other.

"I must say I didn't expect that reaction," stated Dumbledore, who'd also risen to his feet. "Must I conclude from this that Harry does indeed hold something against me?"

"It's not as complicated as all that," Snape answered. "Harry is persuaded he experienced, saw and heard certain things, and he is still too weak, too upset to accept that these episodes were all only acts designed to break him."

"Lucius Malfoy, I presume?" Dumbledore sighed.

Snape nodded slowly. "As far as Harry's concerned, you hate him. You struck him, you put him under Cruciatus, and sent him back to the Dursleys, if I correctly understood the scenario that Lucius and his acolytes concocted for him. I only know part of it…but Harry is persuaded that he really lived those scenes."

"And I just told him I've obtained his guardianship…"the Headmaster murmured.

"Actually, I don't think it reasonable to expect the news would make him jump with joy. Oh, you'd best alert Minerva of having been your accomplice in this little torture scene that Harry suffered at your hands."

Severus thought he saw the Headmaster wince. What he was certain of, on the other hand, was that the old wizard's face seemed paler and more aged than usual.

"Best to find Harry and explain the situation to him more clearly," the Potions master suggested. "To set aside one final doubt…were there other victims in the course of these last confrontations?"

"No, everything was concentrated around the Burrow and Privet Drive, and Snape Manor, of course. There were no wounded, other than the Dursleys."

"Perfect. Before we go down… Harry is convinced that the Weasleys were killed, as well as Tonks, Remus, and the whole of the Order. Because of him, of course," Snape said casually. "By chance, it would seem that Lucius and Bellatrix's imaginations spared me."

"Harry appeared very possessive and protective of you, Severus. When I came to visit you last evening," Dumbledore said softly.

Was that a note of regret, or perhaps envy, that the Potions master detected in the Headmaster's voice?

"He thinks I'm the only person he has left," Snape admitted. "A misconception he'll have to correct soon. Until then, I suppose he's entrusted his need for safety to myself."

"Perhaps, perhaps," the old wizard murmured.

"If you'll follow me," Snape grumbled with a gesture towards the door.

They returned to the dungeon in silence, the sound of their footsteps echoing heavily in the stairwell.

Severus expected to find the boy once again in his cat form, or perhaps throwing things against the walls, as seemed to be his habit. But when he saw Harry, he felt his chest constrict painfully.

The teenager had taken refuge in his armchair, hunched over with his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth without seeming to be able to stop. Even from where he was, Severus could see he was trembling.

Soundlessly, he went to sit on the arm of the chair, and carefully wrapped him in his arms. "I won't leave you, Harry. Everything will be fine."

The boy didn't answer, but allowed himself to be held by the professor. Automatically, Snape put his hand on the boy's forehead and pulled him against himself.

In his turn, Dumbledore went to the fireplace just opposite them, his demeanor more humble than ever. "Harry, I'm sorry to have upset you that way. I never intended to take you from Professor Snape's protection, not even before knowing that sacrificial magic was protecting you here. The guardianship I obtained is purely administrative; I just had to exert my influence so there wouldn't be any question. The professor's reputation as a Death Eater would've unfortunately not allowed that to be done directly."

Harry turned his eyes, at once confused and gleaming, toward the Headmaster. "You wanted for him to make me pay, isn't that true?" he said through his teeth.

"Harry?" asked the Headmaster.

"You wanted me to pay for what I did. But he won't do it. He's not like Uncle Vernon…."

"I don't doubt that for a moment, Harry. If I entrusted you to Professor Snape's keeping, it's precisely because he seemed the person best qualified to protect you. There's nothing anywhere in my intention to make you unhappy…even if I confess I'm curious to understand from where this assumption came?"

"I would never be sorry enough, would I? That's what you said. But I am. I have regrets. About everything—my parents, Sirius, the Weasleys, and now the Dursleys. I'm truly sorry, but I can't ask for forgiveness. Not from you. It's them that I should…but I can't…they're dead." The boy's voice broke as he buried his face in the professor's robes.

The two wizards couldn't look away from the trembling teenager, even under the shock of the words they'd just heard.

When Snape had gathered enough courage to put his hands on Harry's shoulders and force the boy to look at him, he was just about certain that his own hands were shaking slightly.

"Harry, do you remember what I told you about all of this? Lucius Malfoy, that room at his disposal in the dungeon? None of that was real, Harry. The Weasleys are alive, and you'll be able to see them in a few days at Hogwarts. And the Headmaster never asked you…to ask for forgiveness, for Merlin's sake! I was with you the entire time, you remember? Can you truly imagine Professor Dumbledore casting a Cruciatus at you?"

The boy stared at him anxiously and confusedly. Severus could've sworn that it was a boy of nine he had before him.

"Come now, Harry, you know perfectly well that it's impossible. If you had to imagine someone treating you this way, it would be me, wouldn't it? Your abominable Potions professor. Not the Headmaster, who's continually protected you and covered for those catastrophes you've regularly brought upon yourself since you came to Hogwarts. As for McGonagall, she'd be ready to dance a tango on the table in the Great Hall, just to create a diversion if someone sought to punish you, even rightfully. And believe me, I'm in a position to know it, Harry, nothing's changed…not in that regard, in any case. I'm always here for you, but I'm not the only one. No one's betrayed you, other than the Dursleys, and they've paid a high price for their betrayal."

The boy was still watching him uncertainly.

A flash of panic shot through Harry's eyes, but a familiar hand came to rest on his forehead; he felt his entire body relax. He could do it. Slowly, he turned his head to face the Headmaster, who was sitting on the bed, on the other side of the fireplace. He'd rarely appeared so fragile, Harry thought…almost vulnerable, and so old, with his long white beard and wrinkles around his eyes…eyes that seemed to be almost begging right now.

"It is I who asks for your forgiveness, Harry," the Headmaster said softly.

"I've made some deplorable decisions concerning you, from the day I entrusted you to your family, after the death of your parents. I can only understand that you're angry with me, and that the last thing you want in the world is to find yourself in my keeping.

"However, Harry, I want you to be convinced of one thing: I never sought to do you harm in any way; all my mistakes were made as I tried to do what seemed best for you. It would appear that in this mission, I've failed you terribly…and I can't help but be glad that you've found a more reliable and efficient protector than I was able to be," he finished with a look at Severus.

"Even though decisions concerning you are officially my responsibility now, I promise to not make a one that hasn't been approved by Professor Snape and yourself. It seems clear that your place is here, especially now that sacrificial magic has been established within these walls. The beginning of term is only two days away, but I don't intend on changing things at Hogwarts, be assured. You will in no way be forced to deal with me. Professor Snape will take care of the formalities, if you're both in agreement on this point."

Snape could sense the Headmaster's tone become more desperate as his speech went on, in face of the lack of a reaction from Harry.

The boy was now no longer trembling, but he was still tense. Discreetly, Snape ran his hand over Harry's back, who turned toward him, his eyes vacant.

"What do you think?" he asked the boy.

An incomprehensible groan was his answer.

"Harry?" he insisted.

"I don't know," Harry murmured. "I believe you…but what happened in the office… It was so real to me. I don't know anymore. I'm sorry."

"I understand," Dumbledore agreed kindly. "Tell me, do you have reason to believe that this scene here, in the laboratory of Snape Manor, could also be an illusion?"

"No, of course not, I know you're really here, that you're really saying what you're saying, but…" He shrugged. "I don't know anymore what I should believe. Or think."

"In that case," the Headmaster continued, "I perhaps see a solution. Severus, do you have a dose of Veritaserum left?"

Harry sensed the Potions master stiffen, as he himself froze, his mind suddenly refusing to work. Veritaserum? The Headmaster would agree to take it to reassure Harry of his intentions? Now he understood better the question he'd just asked him, if he realized that he wasn't in a dream now, so he'd have all the proof he wanted….

The professor's voice broke into his thoughts.

"No. All the potions I kept here were destroyed last night."

Harry felt himself blush. Most of the potions he'd destroyed had probably been valuable, not to mention the ingredients. Snape hadn't had the chance to scold him for it, but Harry'd catch it, sooner or later!

"In your office at Hogwarts, perhaps?" Dumbledore suggested.

Snape nodded reluctantly.

"Would it bother you to go and bring me back a dose?" the Headmaster asked politely.

"Is that truly necessary?"

The Headmaster responded with a confidant smile, as he turned to the teenager still pulled in close to Snape. Harry's face had flushed crimson, but he looked up when he felt Severus' eyes on him; the Potions master could read the boy's answer there, as clearly as if it'd been spoken aloud.

Yes.

Clenching his jaw, Snape got up and took a handful of Floo powder, which he then threw into the grate. "I'll be back in a moment," he said with a reassuring look for Harry, and a more pointed one for Dumbledore. Announcing his destination, he disappeared in the green flames.

At the same instant, Harry felt his heart pound in his chest. He was here alone with Dumbledore. Should he really trust him, or was he going to try and attack him again?

But no, he suddenly remembered. He was protected here, no one could attack him, thanks to Snape and the spell he'd cast to protect him.

Once again, someone had sacrificed themselves for him…and if Snape hadn't survived? Harry shuddered. He wanted Snape to come back, there, now, he wanted to be sure the man was all right. What proof was there that there weren't any more Death Eaters at Hogwarts? Or some other sort of ambush…

Harry felt his breathing become more rapid as he panicked, and shot a quick look at the Headmaster. No, he hadn't budged, or made the slightest move for his wand. But conversely, what if he were waiting to be sure that Snape was really dead, and that the wards were falling? What if…

The green flames crackled once again in the fireplace, and the Potions master stepped out into the dungeon, a flask in his hand.

One look at Harry sufficed for him to understand that his fears had not been unfounded. The boy's breathing was ragged, and he was paler than ever, his fingers clenched on the arm of the chair.

He should've told Dumbledore to go himself for his bloody potion, he swore to himself.

"Albus, could you leave us alone for a moment?"

"Certainly, certainly," the Headmaster replied hastily, before taking the steps up to the park.

As soon as the door had shut, Severus leant toward the boy and forced him to stand, then pulled him against himself, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Desperate situations called for desperate measures. The potion was no longer working, of course, but he would've liked to be able to transfer some of his strength, or at the very least make him understand that he had nothing to fear.

He'd barely embraced the boy, when Harry started to shake again, clinging desperately to Snape's robes.

"I don't want you to leave," he said hoarsely. "You have no right to die. Not now…"

Oh Merlin. Die? Because he'd disappeared for scarcely a few minutes?

"Harry, that's completely irrational. You heard me give the destination for my office, I was at Hogwarts. I was only gone a few moments, and I wasn't in any danger, nor were you!"

"But you almost died, throwing that spell yesterday! Everyone dies, and I don't want … I hardly know you, and…."

Unable to finish the sentence, Harry allowed his whole body to relax, his forehead pressed against the professor's chest. "I can't do it anymore. Please."

At that precise instant, it seemed to Severus that once again the world had tilted slightly on its axis. Even more…a bit to the right… But it wasn't a somber revelation this time. The room seemed all of a sudden a bit larger, a bit brighter, and the boy who'd surrendered himself to him was neither James Potter's son, nor Lily's, but just a child at the end of himself, who desperately needed someone. Him.

It was just Harry. Not the Boy Who Lived, not Shadow, not Potter…but Harry.

And Snape was going to do the right thing. Yes, he was going to accept what the boy was offering him—his destiny, his responsibility…and he wasn't going to do it so he could be forgiven or some other such thing, or for a cause, or for a memory. He would do it for Harry.

His Harry.

It was no longer only the world that had changed, he suddenly realized, but himself. After having taking his turns at Death Eater, spy, professor and Head of Slytherin, Severus had never expected to one day be surprised at himself.

He'd been wrong. And for once, he suspected that that this chance would not be a cause for bitterness.

"If you'd like to rest, Harry, you're free to do so," he said, his voice steady. "But if you feel able, I think it'd be wise to accept the Headmaster's offer. I'll stay with you the entire time. This infernal dilemma must be dealt with once and for all; the quicker you have a clear idea of things, the quicker you'll be able to get back on your feet."

The boy nodded, then turned toward the window. Snape transfigured the bed back into an armchair, then went out in search of the Headmaster, who was calmly observing the park.

"You're settled in here nicely, Severus. I understand why Harry felt comfortable here."

"Do what you have in mind, old man. But if you have the slightest doubt over whether your revelations might hurt Harry…then abstain. I have no intention of watching one of your dubious strategies ruin his equilibrium once again!"

There it was again, that little sparkle of amusement in the Headmaster's eyes, which didn't fail to exasperate the professor.

"Have no fear, Severus. I ask only that you trust me again this time."

With a skeptical snort, Snape opened the door to allow Dumbledore to enter, then both of them proceeded to the dungeon. Harry was waiting for them, clearly nervous as the Headmaster took his armchair.

"Harry, can I ask you to promise me not to ask any questions having to do with the Order, or any others, except for those that concern our subject at hand?"

Without looking away, Harry nodded slowly.

"Good. I trust you completely, my boy. Severus, administer the potion, if you please?" he asked courteously.

Snape handed him the flask, and the Headmaster swallowed it down without hesitation. His eyes suddenly became vacant, and the Potions master signaled to Harry with his head.

The boy paused for a second, then pressed his lips together. "He won't remember anything, will he?"

Severus shook his head to signal that he wouldn't.

Taking a deep breath, Harry began, "Did you ever cast a Cruciatus at me?"

"Never," answered the Headmaster calmly and neutrally.

It seemed to Harry as if a weight had just left his chest. He could've stopped there, really, but…

"Did you hit me?"

"No."

"Did you try to have me sent back to the Dursleys this summer?"

"I would've, if Severus hadn't warned me of how badly they were treating you there. After that, I definitely gave up the idea."

Harry let out a long sigh. But now that he'd started, the questions churned in his mind. "Why did you leave me with the Dursleys to begin with?"

"Because they were your family, and because the wards would protect you."

"You really didn't know they hated me?"

"I knew they didn't appreciate you presence there, but I didn't know the extent of their animosity."

So that was it? Harry thought. Because of stupid presumptions, his childhood had been irrevocably spoiled…for nothing?

"Did I disappoint you?" he asked, before even forming the question in his mind.

"No, never," came the firm reply.

Harry was silent for a moment. He probably should've started with that question, because the weight in his chest was replaced with a gentle warmth.

"Why did you leave me with Snape?" he continued, as he avoided looking at the professor.

"Because he was the most qualified to protect you, and I was hoping that your relationship would profit from it."

"Are you really going to allow the professor to make the decisions about me?"

"Certainly."

"Do you…" _Do you think of me as a weapon, or do you have my best interests at heart?_ he'd meant to say. But he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Not here, in any case, and not now.

Shaking his head, he turned to Snape. "Do you have questions?"

Severus seemed disconcerted for a moment, then stared thoughtfully at the Headmaster.

"Do you intend to give me carte blanche with Harry, or do you plan on exercising your right if things don't turn out as you'd like?"

"I'd only do that as a last resort, but I wouldn't hesitate if the situation required it."

Snape digested the answer for an instant, then turned to Harry. "Could you leave for a moment, please?"

The boy looked at him questioningly, but headed without a word for the stairway to the upper storey.

Severus waited a few moments, then moved to face the Headmaster. He only had time for a single question, but it was going to put it to good use. "Albus, would you support me if I applied to adopt Harry Potter?"

It took a second for the answer to come.

"Yes."

* * *

Thanks to RaeWhit for the translation- and to you for the wonderful reviews ;-)

Chocolate and hairballs for everyone !


	24. Chapter 24 Shadow and Light

**Chapter Twenty-four: Shadow and Light**

Stretched out on his bed, Harry watched the shadows play on the ceiling of his room. This day had been truly bizarre…but come to think of it, what was a normal day supposed to be like?

Voldemort attacking, Snape flirting with death, Dumbledore announcing a new catastrophe, and himself in the midst of it all, trying to cope.

All in the space of twenty-four hours. Snape was now sleeping in his room on the other side of the hallway, and Harry was fairly certain that he had to be experiencing the soundest of sleeps, if only because of the sleep potion that Dumbledore had poured into the professor's cup.

To Harry's surprise, Snape hadn't protested. He'd given him a long, thoughtful look, to which the boy had responded with a smile, affirming that, for his part, he intended to sleep non-stop through the last two days of the hols.

He didn't really believe that, but he'd had the sudden intuition that Snape wouldn't agree to rest as long as Harry didn't feel safe. Which he did, he supposed. He'd even managed to not grit his teeth when Dumbledore had offered to keep guard while they rested.

All right, he really wanted to believe that the Headmaster didn't actually mean him any harm, but to fall asleep there, Snape out of commission in his room, with Dumbledore just a few feet away, reading in the sitting room?

Not a chance. Not after what'd happened. An illusion, certainly, but a very realistic and painful one. He wasn't ready yet.

He'd managed, though, to put on a good face, good enough at least to convince Snape to swallow the potion down in a single gulp and close himself up in his room, with the promise he'd be awakened for the slightest problem. And if the long, pointed look he'd received were any indication, the Potions master was thinking more of a likely Potter crisis than a Death Eater attack.

But no, he certainly wasn't going to let Snape stay up because of him. Merlin, one look at the professor was enough to realize that he was at the end of himself, not only physically, but mentally. Those circles under his eyes….

Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He was the only one responsible for those…and not only because Snape had tried to defend him; Harry'd outright drained the man of his strength, willingly, without scruples, without taking time to question what he was doing.

And despite it all, Snape had tried to protect Harry by sacrificing himself. His strength and his magic…two things that were most likely as precious to the professor as his very life.

Harry felt his heart constrict, but in a less unpleasant way than he'd've expected. A bit of guilt, yes, but especially…an undeniable and comforting warmth that made him want to curl up in the duvet despite the heat.

He felt good. Comfortable. It was totally absurd, people were dead and…oh. The Dursleys.

All of a sudden nervous, he went to the window to look out at the park. Would he end up imagining he saw them too, in the street, somewhere, maybe in a Muggle store? Or watching the telly….

The setting seemed right, but the faces were blurred. He'd seen them just a few days ago, though, but it felt like years had gone by since then. Forget them? Was that possible? He didn't even have a photo of them… Anyway, why would he've wanted one?

Vernon was a horrible pig, yes, and he'd enjoyed putting Harry in his place, or rather the one he'd picked out for him. As for Petunia, she'd probably sold out to Voldemort, indifferent to his fate, like she had been when Vernon lit into him.

And Dudley…oh, Dudley was Dudley.

But they'd not asked for anything, and certainly not for Harry in their lives, and now, they were dead because of him. He couldn't even manage to be sad, not really, not like he should've been. Was it really so horrible for him to feel relieved?

No more cupboard. No more Privet Drive. No more lashes with the belt, or scoldings, or disgusted looks…not from them anyway. His family. The only one he would have, if he didn't count the Weasleys. They'd been there for him, of course, and he'd felt more accepted by them than he'd ever felt at the Dursleys'.

But the Weasleys made up a complete family, which had grown and taken shape over the course of years and births, and despite all the affection they could show him, Harry would always remain a sort of adopted cousin in a family that was already full to overflowing.

One day, perhaps, he'd start his own…but for now, that idea was especially scary and far off. Merlin, he still couldn't see to his own protection!

Outside, the wind was playing in the trees, and Harry was seized by a sudden whim to transform into the cat and climb up to the highest branch, up to the sky, up toward the sun.

Harry winced. No, what he wanted was to stay in the dungeon, away from the light, there where nothing could happen to him…nothing worse, anyway.

He was so tired…he'd've gladly been in Snape's place, snoring peacefully in his bed.

Hmmm, was it really possible that Snape snored? There was something about the idea that was strangely bizarre, but with a nose like that…oh all right, that was probably a bit disrespectful on his part.

Whatever the case, snoring or not, he'd have been more likely to sleep, with Snape beside him. It was probably childish, but the notion of the professor not being there to reassure him if he had a nightmare made him anxious.

It wasn't as if Snape had coming running each and every time he'd had a bad dream, but Harry still had this impression of a protective and caring presence that'd he'd just recently begun to associate with the professor.

And with all that he'd been through…he didn't have the courage yet to face a restless, sleepless night. Of course he needed sleep, and Snape did too, but he was fairly certain that the Potions master wouldn't be cross with him if…hmmm. Maybe he would, on second thought. He was taking a risk, but he'd face the consequences after he was rested and had a clear enough mind to figure out an excuse.

Without making a sound, he opened the door to his room. No one in sight… Dumbledore must be keeping guard in the sitting room at the end of the hallway. Harry softly closed the door behind him, and an instant later, a black cat crossed the hallway and jumped agilely at the doorknob of the door opposite. With a bump of his head, he pushed the door far enough open to slip into the room. He pushed it shut behind him, applying all of his weight against it.

The door shut with a little _click_. He held his breath, listening for the slightest sound. Nothing stirred. The potion that Snape had drunk was apparently will working. Harry was pretty sure that at any other time the spy would've jumped up, wand in hand, the very instant he'd crossed the threshold.

He waited for a moment, while his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, then crept stealthily forward. No, Snape wasn't snoring… He wasn't sleeping in a night cap either, or a brocaded night shirt, nothing that would allow him to blackmail the professor at Hogwarts. Actually, the sight the professor made was rather frightening. Clearly, one could count on Snape to be impressive even while sleeping.

Harry couldn't decide if the potion had acted too quickly or if it was Snape's custom to sleep fully clothed. Whichever it was, the man was completely stretched out, still wearing the clothes he'd had on when he'd come up to his room, his robes spread out on the bed, his hand still clenching his wand. He hadn't even taken the time to take off his boots, Harry realized.

His face was pale and fixed, his posture stiff…the cat felt his heart skip a beat. Was he dead? What if exhaustion had finally got the best of the Potions master? What if Dumbledore's potion had poisoned him?

With a single leap, he was onto the bed and stealthily crept up to the professor, almost touching the man's face with his nose. He waited a moment, his muscles tensed…before relaxing with a sigh of relief: yes, Snape was breathing, nothing remarkable like the snoring he'd hoped for, but his chest was rhythmically rising and falling slowly, breath after breath.

Reassured, Shadow sat to look around him. So what could the terrible Potions master's lair look like? But a quick glance was enough to disappoint him. In contrast to the laboratory overburdened with shelves, books, and sundry ingredients, Snape's room was nearly empty, almost monastic. A simple bed without curtains stood facing the door, a nightstand where two books lay, a wardrobe, a chest in a corner…and no windows.

Rather sinister, Harry thought… Another door at the side surely led to a bathroom, but the only light in the room was coming in from underneath the door that opened into the hallway.

Did Snape like confined spaces this much? No decorative touches ornamented the room's walls, which wasn't at all surprising, given the rest of the Manor. It would seem the professor wasn't a domestic man.

Harry would've probably pondered the implications of this discovery a bit more, but Shadow himself found that he couldn't care less. He'd found his Man in Black again, safe and sound, and the Manor's decor wasn't important at all. _He_ was there, and the wave of tenderness that washed over him as he placed a paw on the man's shoulder didn't raise a single question or protest in the depths of his consciousness.

The Man in Black belonged to him, like Shadow belonged to the wizard. Nothing was simpler. He wouldn't let anyone harm his human, and he knew the man would defend him the same way.

What else did he possibly need to know? When the next meal was, perhaps….

Curling up against the wizard's shoulder, the cat fell soundly to sleep, a slight purring in his throat.

***

It wasn't hunger that awakened Shadow, but a change in the rhythm of the Man in Black's heart. He felt him take a deep breath, his muscles suddenly regaining control of his body, and an instant afterward, the wizard was sitting up on the bed, with his wand in his hand.

Shadow pulled away and went to sit on the edge of the bed, then yawned widely.

He'd really slept well; he wondered what time it could be now, hard to know with no windows…

His eyes met the Man in Black's, and the yawn died in his throat.

Hmmm, it would appear that the wizard didn't appreciate his intrusion. The dark look he bestowed upon the cat was laced with irritation and menace.

"I suppose the hopes of maintaining a minimum of privacy in my own Manor would be too much to ask?"

Shadow flattened himself out on the mattress, his heart racing.

"That's quite enough, Potter, outside, now!"

The cat didn't budge, but contented itself with staring at him, its pupils dilated.

With a hiss of anger, Snape got up in a flash and threw the door open wide. "Out-side!"

Without delay, the chat jumped from the bed and bolted into the hallway, without as much as a by-your-leave.

With a sigh of ill-temper, Snape slammed the door. He hadn't even noticed that the brat had come into his room. Merlin, was he going to be forced to lock his door? He should've never agreed to that potion; anything could've happened! What good was it to forego windows if the door remained wide open? Obviously, access was usually restricted by protective wards, but he'd truly been too exhausted to think of them the night before.

And Dumbledore was supposed to be keeping watch. Merlin, he hoped the Headmaster hadn't deserted his post during the night; was that why Harry had come to him?

Come to think of it, Severus suspected just the opposite… He sighed. They'd won a battle, as much against Voldemort as for the boy's healing, but they'd not won the war.

At the very least, this night's rest had done him a great deal of good; he could feel the ache in the muscles of his back, and his magic still seemed weakened, but he felt able to cut a good figure.

And have a serious talk with Harry about the boundaries of his territory. Shaking his head, he opened the door to the bathroom. At least the boy hadn't checked out his brand of shampoo. In any case, he hoped he hadn't.

***

When Snape entered the sitting room, he felt a slight sense of déjà vu at the scene awaiting him. Dumbledore, his demeanor slightly piqued, was trying to coax the black cat out from under an armchair where it'd taken refuge; the cat didn't seem to have the slightest intention of leaving

"Severus, I'm pleased you're awake! It would seem that Harry's had a few small transformation difficulties this morning. Did you sleep well?"

"As I usually do with a potion," Snape replied dryly. "Potter, come out from there before becoming totally ridiculous. You already manage that quite well enough in normal circumstances."

The cat flicked an ear, but didn't make a move otherwise.

"Potter, you're aware that you're hiding under a chair, aren't you?"

The total absence of reaction in the cat awakened Snape's concern.

"Harry, come out," he said again more calmly, which only seemed to make the cat nervous.

"Hmmm. You tried to feed him, I assume?" he asked the Headmaster. With a contrite smile, the man handed him a bowlful of fish.

Snape groaned as he made half of it disappear, before placing the bowl at his feet. A second later, the cat crept cautiously toward him. With one last hesitation, it threw itself at the bowl, no longer bothering with the two wizards watching it.

Snape frowned. This was a typically Shadowesque way of doing things…but on the other hand, there hadn't been the slightest trace of Harry in the way the cat was acting since Snape'd awakened.

That really didn't sit well with him….

"Did something happen last night?" he asked the Headmaster.

"Absolutely not. Everything was very calm. I stayed here the entire night, and Harry joined me barely a quarter-hour ago, in his present form. He didn't seem happy to see me," he finished.

"Harry left his room last night."

"Oh, really?" asked Dumbledore innocently, a smile in his voice.

"You heard him, didn't you?" Snape growled. "And you let him, of course."

"It seemed to me that Shadow's…presence wouldn't disturb you," Dumbledore replied.

Severus grimaced when he heard the name. What right did he have….

"Severus, don't take this so badly," Dumbledore continued in a conciliatory tone. "It seemed to me that Harry was having trouble getting to sleep. I understand that his intrusion bothers you, but consider it for what it is: the actions of a child who didn't feel safe, alone in his room, after what he'd been through. This will pass once he's back on his feet, I'm certain of it."

_And as soon as you're gone_, Snape thought.

Hadn't Dumbledore appreciated the extent of the problem? He didn't know, but for once Snape hadn't the slightest desire to see the Headmaster meddle. Reporting a problem, waiting for Dumbledore to suggest a solution, and applying his orders to the letter to resolve it—Snape knew all too well how to do that. Carrying out his mission, not overly concerned with the details, playing his part without questioning the Headmaster's motives…and why not?

He knew his role in the war, and he was only a pawn, not an end unto himself, nor a knight in shining armor fighting for a better world. The most loyal mercenary in all of history, at the most.

But Harry? That was different. This time, it was his battle, and no one would take it from him…no one could, in truth.

"I don't think Voldemort will attempt to attack the Manor so soon. Thank you for watching over it, though," Snape said with a nod at the old wizard.

Catching the hint, Dumbledore gathered his robes and glanced one last time at the cat.

"Will you need potions? Poppy had a bag of them sent last night; I put it on the table in your laboratory."

"Nothing I can't make myself. I'll contact you if that proves necessary."

Dumbledore nodded, and with Snape at his side, headed for the dungeon.

"You'll keep me up to date, Severus?"

It was more an order than a question, the Potions master decided, but that barely bothered him. Albus had understood.

"I doubt there'll be much to tell. Harry needs to rest and regain his strength, and he's going to do just that. He's more than earned it."

"Certainly, certainly…and if I may, my boy, he's not the only one in that case," Dumbledore said.

For an instant, Snape was tempted to retort sharply, but the jolly little twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes stopped him

"I'll keep you informed of how things are going," he said at last, when they'd arrived in front of the fireplace. "Let me know if Voldemort spreads rumors about him in any way. Not that I'll be able to do much about it…"

"Take a rest, Severus," the Headmaster answered firmly, a hand on the professor's arm. "You've accomplished your mission, and well beyond. I can't express how grateful I am for your actions; without you, Harry would've probably been dead long ago…and our hopes along with him."

Snape couldn't hold back a snort of disgust. Their hopes, yes… He would've decidedly preferred that the Headmaster see a bit less hope and a lot more teenager in Harry. But this was Dumbledore. The only wizard truly capable of countering Voldemort, the only one possessing the courage to lead the war. What should he've expected?

Albus was hugely fond of Harry, probably more than the Headmaster himself would've liked. But that fact changed nothing concerning the war, nor of the boy's destiny.

And that, even Severus had to admit.

"I'll take care of him," he finally said.

"I don't doubt it," Dumbledore agreed. "In that case, I'll see you in two days."

"Perhaps," Snape said thoughtfully. "Probably."

With a last incline of his head and an understanding smile, the Headmaster disappeared into the flames of the Floo powder.

Snape chased away the irritation that'd plagued him so often nowadays when he was with the Headmaster, and focused his thoughts on Harry. He had to get to the truth of the matter, but he strongly suspected that a new problem was looming on the horizon. And speaking of the cat…

Snape turned around, and was unsurprised when he noticed the animal hesitating at the doorway to the laboratory. "Enter."

The cat trotted happily to him, his eyes a bit uncertain.

"Harry?" he asked, when the cat was seated in front of him. "If you understand me, I'd like you to resume your human form."

For a few long moments, the cat and wizard observed each other without anything happening. Snape let out a long, annoyed sigh.

"Harry? Do you hear me?"

The cat flicked a questioning ear, but its cat eyes only reflected incomprehension.

"_Animagus revelio."_

An instant later, a disoriented teenager stood before him, trying to regain his balance. Obviously troubled, Harry glanced around the room, then turned his attention to Snape.

"Um…Dumbledore's gone?" he asked.

"Professor Dumbledore. Yes, he's gone back to Hogwarts."

"Oh. Good."

Harry started to feel ill-at-ease under Snape's assessing eyes. Clearly, it would've perhaps helped if he could've remembered how he'd got there…in his cat form, it appeared, but he wasn't entirely sure about that.

"Might I know why you didn't answer me, a moment ago?" Snape asked.

Harry tried in vain to wrack his memory, but he couldn't even remember the professor speaking to him since…since…

"I'm sorry. Did you want something?" he said at last.

"Yes, to know what's wrong. Harry, is there a problem with your transformations?"

"Excuse me?" the boy asked, stunned. What transformation? "Oh, I bothered you, then?" he said, with sudden realization as his last memory came back to him. Night had just fallen when he'd slipped out of his room…what time could it be now? It was broad daylight, anyway.

"That's a discussion for later, but indeed, I hardly appreciate the intrusion into my rooms. However, for this time, I believe I can understand. But that's not the issue at hand. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Hmm…leaving my room, with the idea of going to yours," Harry confessed, feeling the blood rise into his cheeks. He really had to grow up…what was he thinking?

"And afterward?" Snape asked, indifferent to the boy's embarrassment.

"I changed forms, but the rest is rather hazy. I think that I, um, got up on your bed. I'm really sorry, Professor, I couldn't get to sleep and I was afraid of…well…"

"That's not important," Snape interrupted in irritation. "Concentrate. What do you remember from when you were in your cat form?"

"Not much, actually," Harry answered. "Meeting up with you again. Seeing Dumbledore…Professor Dumbledore, later, and following you here. It's a bit confused," he apologized as he shook his head.

"Indeed," Snape said. "Is this normal? Up until now, it seems to me that you were perfectly aware of everything, whichever form you took."

"Hmm," Harry agreed thoughtfully.

In truth, the few memories he had of his last time as Shadow were more than confused. It was if he'd once again forgotten that he really wasn't a cat, and that Shadow had a way of seeing things that was completely personal. The few impressions he'd managed to recapture were of an intense feeling of security, of belonging, and of deep affection…and a total absence of anxiety.

He'd felt so good, frankly. And now, back in his true form, he no longer remembered how such a miracle could've occurred.

"Harry?" Snape prodded.

The boy hesitated; the professor's frown and the worry in his eyes were the reason for his reticence. "Well, I didn't have this problem before, not since Grimmauld Place. This time, it's like I forgot that I could be anyone else but Shadow…"

"Harry, despite this ridiculous name I've given you—"

"It's not ridiculous!" the boy protested.

"No matter," Snape said, annoyed. "Despite this name, you are but one and the same person, whatever your form. There is no reason to dissociate them."

"I know," Harry answered thoughtfully, "but I didn't know that at the beginning, when I first came here. And the way things turned out, all that's happened in the meantime, I don't remember the rest anymore. That changed everything, you understand. When I take my cat form, I experience things differently, so it's not surprising I feel different as well. And…good," he huffed out in an audible breath.

"Good?" Snape continued.

"Better, anyway," Harry sighed. "Last night, I wasn't thinking anymore about everything that's happened, and all that's yet to come; all that mattered was the here and now. _That_ I remember, at least. And it was nice, really, and restful."

"You couldn't get to sleep last evening?" the professor asked.

"No. Too many things to think about."

"You could've taken a potion. Those I left in your room are intact."

"With Dumbledore nearby? No, I don't think so," Harry replied. Then, regretting his words, he added, "Listen, I know it wasn't true, that he didn't really do all that to me. But for now, it's just too…recent, concrete. It's hard to take all those things into consideration when I still hurt everywhere."

Seeming slightly guilty, Severus headed for the table and opened the bag of potions that Pomfrey had had sent to them.

"No need to suffer in silence, Harry. There are potions for that. Drink," he said as he handed him several phials.

The boy took the potions and swallowed them without a word, while Snape took some for himself. He didn't feel that bad, really; he'd known worse. The situation bothered him much more than the diffuse pain in his muscles.

"Harry, it's normal for you to have trouble keeping your thoughts straight, after all that's just happened," Snape said, as if he'd read his mind. "I'm certainly not going to scold you for having appropriately reacted to a potion that I myself designed and made. It will take some time before you'll be able to gain some perspective on all of that, of which I'm perfectly aware. You have the time. The only thing you should concern yourself with now is feeling the best you can, in your mind and in your transformations, as well as with your powers. The rest of it isn't important right now."

"But Voldemort..." Harry began.

"Is out of commission, thanks to you. Not definitely, I'll grant you, but enough to give you a serious reprieve. I'm not claiming that you're out of danger, or that nothing else can happen, but the chances of that are limited for now, and I ask you to leave the responsibility for that to me. Do you think you can do that?"

The boy shot him a perplexed look. "Protect me? I think you've already done that…and then some."

"What I've done is one thing. What I'd like to know, Harry, is if you trust me to keep you safe?" the Potions master calmly asked.

"Seems clear to me," the boy retorted. When Snape continued to stare at him, he started to think for a moment. Maybe the professor was right after all. Maybe he didn't trust him completely. "Listen…it's not like that." He sighed. "I trust you, all right? Really. You managed to save me, several times, you've defended me, and what you did yesterday was…no one's ever done such a thing for me. Besides my mother, obviously, but…that's the problem, you know? I'm not used to that. The people I grew up with didn't really bother about my safety."

He felt a new wave of bitterness wash over him. He didn't have the right to speak ill of the Dursleys, not now that they were dead. "And the ones who wanted to protect me are dead. My mother, my father, Sirius. So I suppose, given all that, I prefer to take care of myself," he said with a shrug.

"Understandable," Snape agreed.

"But I trust you," Harry added. "That much is clear. Shadow wouldn't allow me to think otherwise," he offered with a smile.

But Snape frowned at what he said. "Harry, I insist that you don't differentiate between your two forms, anymore than you already have. I understand you feel the need to do that, but it would be an escape and a weakness. Do you understand?"

"I'm not a coward!" Harry exclaimed. "I didn't' try to do it, it just happened! And rather a good thing, I'd say, I'd never have come here if I'd remembered…."

He fell silent, avoiding the professor's eyes. Since when had he been afraid of hurting Snape? And since when had he been ashamed to admit that he'd hated him? It wasn't as if he'd been responsible for their dislike of each other this summer…

"Far be it from me to treat you like a coward," Snape replied calmly. "I understand completely that you don't have any direct control over your Animagus form and the way you experience it; my remark was only a warning. I can protect you from Death Eaters, Harry, but not from yourself."

Harry nodded, troubled. The professor wasn't wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes just now.

"By the way, I apologize for not being there for you last night," Snape continued, in what Harry recognized as his 'Shadow' voice. "I suspected that you weren't comfortable with the arrangements that the Headmaster and I'd made, but I was too worn-out to reasonably guarantee the Manor's safekeeping. Taking that potion was in hindsight an error, and I regret it."

This time, Harry couldn't help but look the professor in the eyes. Snape was apologizing? To him?

"Of course not," he said as he shook his head. "I have no excuse for going into your room, Professor. I apologize. I was worried about sleeping, after all that'd just happened, and…I suppose that you have proof now that I trust you. I knew that I'd feel safer if you were close by."

He thought he saw a little gleam of satisfaction in Snape's eyes as he said the words.

"All right, it would seem we're both sorry. Just as good a way as any to get off to a new start, I assume," the professor said with a slight smile.

Yeah, Harry thought bitterly, as good a way as any. It'd almost been easy to hide in Snape's arms, and to beg him not to leave when he'd been exhausted and despairing. But now that they were here in the dungeon, talking about him taking his time, and apologizing…everything seemed more difficult.

But that wasn't Shadow's opinion, of course…and Shadow was never far off. He gave the Potions master a smile.

"Are you hungry?" Snape asked.

Harry was about to answer when his stomach spoke for him.

"Apparently, yes," he said, with a little embarrassed laugh. "Do you want me to fix something?"

"Two will make that go more quickly," Snape said as he turned toward the hallway. "I believe we've both earned the biggest lunch in the history of wizardom…and the nap that goes with it."

"Are you still tired?" Harry asked worriedly, with a frown.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," the professor replied calmly. "But I suppose you didn't have a chance to look in the mirror this morning?"

"A mirror?" Harry asked. "Do I look as bad as all that?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary there either."

"Oh, thanks," the boy grimaced.

He really wanted to believe Snape. Despite the good night he'd spent, he felt achy and exhausted. And if Harry felt that way after absorbing energy and powers, the professor certainly had to feel worn-out.

But that was going to change, Harry decided. From now on, he was going to make sure Snape recovered as quickly as possible, starting with a good meal prepared with his own hands!

Famished and impatient, Harry got his hands on the bacon, and his stomach growling in anticipation, put it in the pan.

Holding himself back from licking his chops like Shadow, he raised his wand and focused. "_Victus Coccere!"_

Before he had time to react, a black cloud escaped from the pan with a menacing sizzle, spreading through the room. Coughing, Harry threw the utensil away from him, his hand against his chest.

"Owww!" he yelped.

In the same instant, he heard Snape cast, "_Aguamenti," _and the acrid smoke started to dissipate.

"Did you burn yourself?" the wizard asked.

"Yes! I don't understand! I just cast the spell you taught me!" Harry said, annoyed, looking at the pan lying on the floor. The bottom seemed like it'd been dipped in acid, warped and almost eaten away.

"The same spell, but with different powers," Snape explained. "I should've warned you. It will probably take you some time to master them."

"In the meantime, the bacon's ruined, not to mention the pan," Harry said, bending down to inspect it. "It's rather frightening. That was just a simple cooking spell; what would it have been if I'd tried something more powerful?"

"That's why we'll begin to work on your powers after eating," Snape replied.

"And after naptime," the boy added.

"Your sense of priorities still astounds me, Potter," Snape said as he handed him a jar of salve for the burns.

"Don't call me that," Harry said, making a face. "You've saved my life. You could at least call me by my first name, even when I irritate you."

"If that were written in Hogwarts' rules, I would've had to call you by your given name since your first year," Snape said offhandedly.

Harry clenched his jaw a bit more, applying the salve to his hand. "You know very well what I mean. What you did yesterday…that was different."

"That seems to upset you," the professor observed.

"Yeah. I don't know. It's not like you only saved my life. You did the same thing as my mother…and you could've died."

Snape looked at him for a long moment, his arms crossed. "I don't intend to lose you now," Snape said at last.

"Me?" Harry asked brusquely. "Or the war?"

The question that had seemed so difficult to ask of Dumbledore had slipped out on its own to the Potions master.

"It's not just a war, Harry, it's a matter of the fate of thousands of people. It's about freedom and all the other values that it's right to fight for."

Snape saw the boy's shoulders slump. "But sometimes," he continued gently, "one can't help but think that the fate of a single person is more important than that of a thousand others. That spell yesterday wouldn't have had any effect if, at the time, I'd been thinking of your usefulness in the war."

He knew the boy wasn't about to transform into the cat, but he could see the attitude of his entire body change to the point of being hardly recognizable. Could a simple phrase truly have so much of an effect?

The emotions running through him were clearly visible on the boy's face: gratitude, relief, happiness, and something Snape was having trouble putting his finger on. Harry blinked like Shadow did, and an instant afterward, it was finally a black cat who was watching him, seeming completely trusting and tranquil.

The same eyes, but such a different expression. Much too different….

"Harry?"

The cat craned its head forward, intrigued.

Snape shook his head. What was he supposed to do in this situation? But whatever he decided, he had no right to make a mistake. If he wanted to get to the bottom of things, he had to deal with this single problem, and what was the most difficult part, without hurting Harry.

"_Animagus revelio!"_

The teenager wobbled for a moment before regaining his balance. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'. What's the problem, Harry? I don't have the feeling that this transformation was voluntary," Snape said.

"No…I suppose I'll need more practice. I didn't see that one coming…"

"One more time: this could be an effect of your new powers. More power, less mastery…" the professor stated. But he wasn't certain he believed it, not completely. And he was convinced that the boy was thinking the same thing as he was.

"Let's eat," he decided at last. Taking out another pan and some slices of bacon, he himself incanted the cooking spell.

A few minutes later, the table was overflowing with food, and the two wizards seemed determined to finish it all off.

Stomach full, Harry thought that things definitely seemed less melodramatic. Or maybe that was because of the potions Snape'd made him swallow. He was fairly sure that the purple potion had been a remedy for anxiety. He certainly wasn't going to complain about it. If he had to test his powers that afternoon, he was going to need a goodly dose of self-control. Merlin, what he'd done to that pan…and he'd only tried to gently fry the bacon!

"Ready, Harry?" Snape asked, seeming more alert after having swallowed a round of potions that would've made any other average wizard pass from life to death.

Definitely a Potions master, the boy thought. "Ready. But it'd be best for me to go outside if I have to test my powers. I don't want the Manor to look like that pan."

"Precisely what I intended," Snape said.

"You don' think that could be dangerous?"

"Not anymore, no. The park is as protected as the Manor. Without the connection created by the potion, Voldemort would've never been able to come so close."

"Good thing," Harry agreed. "Maybe I could fly a bit, if everything goes all right?"

Severus shot him a scathing sideways look. "And risk accidentally leaving the boundaries of the property? Brilliant idea."

"I could stay right around the Manor," Harry protested, then, at the professor's dark look, he added, "…or not."

"Or not," Snape finished. "One thing at a time, Harry. Do you have your wand? Good. Never be without it; that would be a grave mistake."

"Hmm. Even in the Manor? That doesn't seem necessary. I mean, no one's going to attack me here. Not with the Fidelius charm."

"That's exactly what your father thought," the professor replied tersely. "With the result we both know."

Harry froze in place. "My father didn't have his wand on him?"

"Not the evening when Voldemort went to find you, no," Snape confirmed pointedly.

It was perhaps a hard lesson, but it was out of the question for the boy to become careless on this matter. Moody was perhaps an old paranoid fool, but at the very least, he was right about one thing: constant vigilance was required.

"But he fought him! I know it, I hear it when the Dementors are close by, I hear my father tell my mother that he's going to hold them back, just before…" He swallowed with difficulty. "Just before my mother dies."

"He was trying to buy time, Harry. For your mother and yourself. But he wasn't able to fight or defend himself. His wand was lying in another room."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked, subdued.

"I know it," Snape answered simply. And with a wave of his hand, he motioned him toward the hallway.

Mulling over what the Potions master had just told him, the boy headed for the dungeon stairway. James had believed himself safe in his house, and he'd been wrong. He'd done everything possible to protect his family, only to fail and end up dying defenseless.

Snape would've never made a mistake like that. However much he hadn't liked Harry, the man had protected him without fail, well beyond his limitations.

But that wasn't entirely correct. Snape had made a mistake by pushing him to present himself at the Ministry. And it probably wasn't true, either, to say that he didn't like Harry, because that's what he'd meant by what he'd said just before the meal, wasn't it? It wasn't only because of the war. It was him. He'd made that mistake while wanting to protect him, and he wanted to protect Harry himself, not because of what he stood for.

All of a sudden, Harry wanted to be out in the sun, out of doors, flying maybe, or simply feeling the wind and warmth on his skin.

As he navigated the stairs, Harry turned to Snape, a little smile on his face. "You never use the front door, isn't that so? That would be faster…"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Actually, I was planning on getting a few potions underway. But you're free to go out the front door, of course; I'll join you in a few minutes."

Harry shook his head. "No, I prefer to go out from down here too…It's weird, but I have this feeling that if I went out the front door, it wouldn't be the same place anymore."

The professor shot him a strange look, but didn't answer.

After grinding up a few ingredients, the two wizards exited the dungeon, leaving the cauldrons on the burners. The sun was at its highest, and it was hard to believe that only a few hours earlier, an icy fog had filled the park.

"Almost like nothing happened," Harry murmured to himself.

"That's always the way of things," Snape replied. "The world still goes on, whatever happens."

His tone was neutral, but Harry didn't doubt that the professor had a very precise thought in mind as he said the words.

He'd learnt so many things about Snape since the beginning of the hols, but it nevertheless remained true that he hardly knew the man. And the more time he spent with him, the more he wanted to know. Still, asking him questions about his life would've probably been premature.

"Why don't you start with a simple spell?" Snape suggested, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

Harry nodded. Taking off his glasses, he threw them into the grass, a few steps away, then raised his wand. "_Accio_ glasses!"

They came to rest in his hands with a bit more force than he would've liked.

"Did you cast the spell more gently than usual?" Snape asked.

"Yes. I'm going to have to get used to decreasing the intensity of my incantations, but that wasn't anything like what happened in the kitchen."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. "A _Diffindo_ now, at that tree," he said as he pointed to a large oak in front of them. "Being careful, of course."

Spotting the tree, Harry lifted his wand and spoke the incantation. For a second, he felt his hand sting intensely, as if under the effect of a slight electric charge, before taking a step backward, as he held his wand in two hands against the backlash. In front of him, the tree whipped about in a crashing of branches.

But not just split in two like he'd expected. No, the tree was literally chopped into pieces, in a bizarre and disorganized fashion that made him shudder.

"Here's something that could prove useful next winter," Snape stated. "Did you modify the spell like I asked you?"

"Yes," Harry murmured. "It should've only slashed the bark, the way I was picturing it…"

"Rather impressive. Did you feel anything in particular?"

"Hmm, yeah, it was like my hand got numb, right when I cast the spell. Do you think that's coming from the new powers?"

"Most likely," Snape agreed. "Or rather a conflict between your powers and the ones you've just acquired. The latter didn't exert any particular influence on a spell as neutral as _Accio, _but _Diffindo_ is different, as it can be considered an offensive spell, and it's there that Voldemort's powers come into play. Not only in their power, but also in the way the spell is carried out. You're accustomed to using magic that's as white and light as possible, but such is not the case with the Dark Lord. He always exploited his powers in the most destructive manner possible, tainting them with his soul and his will to dominate. That's what is awakened when you cast a spell that could be offensive in nature…"

Harry had paled at these words. "But that's not _my _way of using my powers! He can't do that in spite of me, can he?"

"First, I'm afraid so. But your own powers help to neutralize this aggressiveness, and of course that will not last forever. A period of adjustment will still be necessary."

"Not only in their power…" Harry murmured as he processed the information.

"No. You know that each wizard has a magical signature. It allows the creator of a spell to be identified, as well as a wizard who casts it. Magic is only a neutral energy; the way it works is changed by the one using it. If you'd absorbed all of Voldemort's powers, this assimilation would've been even more difficult…"

"Is that why you didn't want me to do that?" the boy asked.

"Partially. My first reason was equally legitimate."

"But what could this do, outside of a battle? I'm going to have to be careful about every spell I cast; I'd've never imagined that _Diffindo_ could produce this type of result!"

"Indeed," Snape said. For an instant, he seemed to be thinking intently, his index finger tapping his cheek in a familiar gesture. "I'd like you to try a different spell on the tree to the side. _Sectumsemptra_," he said, demonstrating the wandwork in the air.

"_Sectumsempra?_ I don't now that…"

"No, I should hope not," the professor murmured. Then, at the boy's perplexed eyes, he said, "It's an attack spell. A rather destructive spell…normally, it should produce a smaller version of what you obtained with _Diffindo."_

Fixing the neighboring tree, Harry did his best to imitate he's professor's movements.

"_Sectumsempra!"_

The same stinging sent pins and needles into his hand, more intensely this time. A flash of light struck the tree, which fell to join the one already on the ground.

In comparison, Harry thought, the first tree could count itself fortunate. The second seemed to have been the victim of a mad axe-murderer, who'd swallowed down one Pepperup too many.

More and more ill-at-ease, he turned to Snape, who himself seemed more than ever lost in his thoughts.

"Professor?"

The wizard looked at him, clearly troubled. "This spell is not supposed to have an effect on plants or inanimate objects. Your new powers are more than impressive. You'll have to be very careful, Harry…and train yourself."

The boy made a face. "You don't need to tell me that. No hopes of taking up dueling again, or even Defense class right now. I don't like this, not at all…and I won't put anyone in danger!"

"Indeed, it would most likely be very easy for you to kill or torture, Harry. That's what the powers you've acquired are used to, and what they're going to try to do. But you'll be the one controlling them, and the one casting the spells. With a bit of training, everything will be fine."

"I don't know," the boy said. "It's a bit scary, I don't get much of a feeling I can control them, not when I see the result…."

"Don't be impatient. These powers will become accustomed to you, I assure you. You've gained considerable strength; consider it as an advantage, not a handicap! This could make all the difference on that day when you'll have to confront Voldemort."

"So long as they don't turn against me," Harry said somberly.

"Out of the question. The powers aren't self-aware…they are only influenced by their wizard. They fought, just as your own did, to return to their rightful owner, as long as the spell didn't intervene. They recognize you as their owner now. It's just a simple question of magical influence. Trust me."

Harry searched the professor's eyes for a long moment before nodding. "I'd be more reassured, though, if I didn't have to fight right away," he said.

"That would be preferable in any case. But there, too, it's best to know what to expect."

Lifting his wand, he began to murmur a group of spells in a low voice, before taking several steps backward.

"Try to disarm me."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Harry answered nervously.

"It's not really an offensive spell. My defenses are at their maximum. An effort, Mister Potter, I know you want to do it!"

"Don't call me that," the boy grumbled.

"If Gryffindors spent less time laying blame and looking for reasons not to fight, this war could've been over long ago. I don't have all night, Potter!"

Clenching his jaw, the boy reluctantly lifted his wand.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

There wasn't actually a jolt of electricity in his hand this time, but he could feel the spell's power as his wind vibrated with the incantation.

The spell reached Snape, and despite his shields, Harry could see that the professor had to grip his wand with all of his might to keep from being disarmed. He staggered for an instant under the force of the shock.

"Perfect," he said approvingly. "Now, I'd like you to focus on blocking my attacks."

He waited a moment for the boy to prepare his defenses, then stepped toward him.

"_Expelliarmus."_

Harry felt the wand shake in his hand, but nothing more.

"_Rictusempra."_

There again, nothing more than a far away, tickling sensation.

"_Tarantellegra."_

This time, absolutely nothing happened.

Snape lowered his wand and shook his head.

"Perhaps you should try something more…aggressive?" Harry suggested. "I didn't feel any effects from those."

"All the better," the professor replied, his voice strangely neutral. "That will be enough for today."

Intrigued, Harry shot him a questioning look. Since the beginning of the hols, Snape had seemed to relax his usual mask of impassivity, letting his emotions show distinctly in his face. But now, his expression was completely unreadable, and the boy sensed he was trying to hide something from him.

"Why?" he insisted. "I managed pretty well; I really think my defenses are more powerful! I'm not asking you for an _Avada Kedavra_, but something a bit more powerful, just to test it? I trust you to stick the pieces back together if I don't manage to block it," he said with a smile.

The professor's face remained fixed, but Harry was able to see a flash in his eyes.

"That will be enough for now. I suggest that your work on something else. Your transformations perhaps."

"But why?" Harry protested.

Snape turned to face him, and Harry thought for an instant that the wizard was going to answer his question. He opened his mouth, but then closed it.

"Do what I say."

But before he had the chance to turn away, Snape felt a familiar sensation invade him…someone was leafing through his thoughts, searching in his memory for… No!

Harry was using Legilimency on him, without even having lifted his wand or spoken a word! Good god, he'd not even taught the boy the spell… Not waiting any longer, he abruptly raised all his defenses, attempting to empty his mind and push the boy out.

It was hopeless, however. Harry's powers were much too strong to be resisted. Snape had been able to keep the Dark Lord at a distance, using all of his will, but his power combined with the boy's was simply impossible to withstand.

He could only try his best to resist, in the hopes that Harry wasn't digging into the darkest corners of his memory…

Harry wanted to know. Snape had no right to hide information from him, not now, not like this! He'd never tried to use Legilimency, but he'd recognized the spell right away when he found it in the Potions master's thoughts. Hence, their roles were reversed now. Oh well, it was now or never! So, why had he wanted to stop the testing session?

Images streamed before him, before stopping. Snape was casting a first-year spell at him, and had to use all his strength to do it. His second spell, even weaker, hardly grazed the boy's shield, with the third one ineffective.

Snape simply didn't have any more magic at his disposal.

Struck with remorse, Harry wanted to withdraw from the professor's mind, and apologize, if that were possible, but already the images had changed. Snape sitting on the bed, holding him in his arms as he felt his strength leaving him unrelentingly. Trying to hide his weakness so as not to alarm him, and drinking potion after potion so Harry could continue to suck him dry. Casting a Protego with all of his soul, draining his magic and what remained of his strength.

Alarmed, Harry reached out his arms to stop him, but it was hopeless, obviously, just a memory he could no longer do anything about…once again, the picture changed.

Godric's Hollow… He only had hazy memories of the place. He'd been too weak then to realize that he was in his parents' village, at the very place were they were laid to rest. But Snape was there, coming toward him, a knife in his hand. Harry remembered that he'd not been afraid, but he could feel the professor's apprehension as he came closer, dressed in Death Eater garb, in order to discreetly pour a potion down Harry's throat. He was trying, against all hope, to break the Death Eater circle and leave the grip of the Anti-Apparition wards.

He knew he didn't have a chance, but he wasn't any less determined, and ran as fast as he could, holding Harry against him. And behind…behind them, Harry could see the silvery silhouette of a huge dog and a stag, throwing themselves on the Death Eaters, sowing panic amongst their ranks.

The scenario seemed to speed up, and an instant afterward, Snape was standing on the threshold of the house, unable to leave, calling Harry by the name he'd given him, the despair in his cry giving Harry goose bumps. And then the figure of a woman was bending over Shadow, taking him into her arms, Snape's heart pounding so hard, it seemed about to explode…

Lily.

His mother! His mother had come to help him? And he'd not told him anything? His mother, handing the unconscious cat to the professor, who murmured a word to him…

What had happened? Why? Why not tell him anything? He didn't have the right to hide this, and behind them, Prongs and Padfoot were watching them, satisfied. No, it wasn't possible!

And yet, he could feel the professor's intense relief, mixed with regret, with sadness, with suffering, with joy as well, and a profound feeling of gratitude… How could one feel so many things, all at the same time? He'd always thought Snape a cold and relatively indifferent person… His opinion had changed this summer, of course, but what he'd just felt in the professor's memories was so intense, that he had the sensation of a sharp blade digging into his chest.

The professor's face, though, showed hardly any more emotion than it had recently, only his eyes speaking for him….

Before he had time to adjust, the images changed once again. Snape, preparing a potion in a vast room, tired and tense, but his motions precise. Someone was laughing behind him, a long, satisfying laugh… Voldemort. The pale face was even more hideous, split by a sickening smile. The professor didn't think differently, given the tension in his shoulders, but something suddenly caught his attention, and he nervously looked up.

Harry couldn't help but startle when he saw what Snape was looking at…a face, far away, confused, two green eyes peering out from it, brimming with pain and fear.

His own…and Snape, mad with worry and rage, powerless to help him, forced to wait for the right moment, swearing to get him out of there….

Snape. Since when had the man begun to be so protective of him? Harry wondered, and couldn't help but feel strangely comforted by the thought.

He'd just barely asked himself the question, when the reel of Snape's thoughts moved on and accelerated.

Privet Drive. He gave a start. Snape, at Privet Drive?

Vernon opened the door, and Harry felt himself draw back at the sight of the man…but Snape wasn't impressed, and the door shut behind him.

Vernon explaining the situation. Harry could sense the professor's bitterness as the man accused Harry of murder. Snape believed it, Harry understood, and the thought filled him with anguish. The idea didn't even surprise him, that Snape could see him as a murderer.

But everything wasn't turning out like Vernon would've liked. With the string of questions, Harry could feel the professor's mind trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

And then they were there, in Harry's room, Snape questioning Vernon, and suddenly….

_"Legilimens!"_

Before he had time to understand what was happening to him, Harry found himself in Vernon's mind, Snape's still resting at the surface.

Harry and Vernon, in the little room…the insults, the blows. Vernon's twisted satisfaction, Snape's fury. The hatred of the two men. And himself, on the floor, allowing himself to be beaten without protesting.

"_He's a freak!"_

It was yesterday. He could still feel the sting of the belt. And he'd been right. But the perverseness of Vernon's feelings, Snape's devastating anger, it was too much, much too much…

Now it was Vernon screaming at the blows of the belt enchanted by Snape, and the professor shut him in there, doing up the locks with a satisfied smile.

"_Don't you ever again dare to put a hand on my cat."_

His cat. Harry thought he felt himself smile weakly. Yes, this was truly His Snape. He was sure of it now. Who else would've avenged him this way?

The scene changed, Petunia now in the tidy sitting room…accusing Snape of having corrupted Lily. How could Petunia know the professor? But by the feeling of disgust he sensed in the professor, it was clear that they weren't meeting for the first time.

"_How could you not love him?"_

Harry stiffened at the question.

_"Couldn't force me to love him. Picture of his father. Freak."_

The boy felt the same bitterness that he'd noticed in the professor spread through him. Snape, though, seemed more shaken that he was. Upset, actually.

"_He very well could've been your son."_

"_By a few years, yes."_

Harry's heart pounded in his chest. Snape? His mother? His son?

And the regret…the betrayal he felt in the Potions master as he said those words…

Not able to take anymore, Harry closed his eyes and with all his might, threw himself out of the professor's mind.

Vernon. Voldemort. Death Eaters. Lily. Snape.

He was going to explode. He had to explode, do something…but before he had the chance, he felt his mind connect with someone else's once again, and the images forced themselves into his own mind.

A dark room, where a strong odor of blood lingered. A bed, a figure…and the fire. Hatred.

"Potter!"

_Voldemort._

"Don't believe you'll get away like this! We're not finished! Oh no, we haven't finished!"

But he could sense the wizard's body, how his magic was broken, and only the Dark Lord's rage still gave strength to the waves of pure hatred that had just painfully spilled out into Harry's mind.

"I will kill them all, all whom you love, those who've protected you, those who've helped you, and yourself at the end, yes, once you've seen them all die…and it'll be you who will beg me to take your life! I already know whom to start with, Harry…"

But the connection was abruptly broken, and Harry opened his eyes wide, gasping. He was stretched out in the grass, his hands clenched in a clump of grass; he could hear Snape's voice behind him, his hands on his shoulders.

"Harry, push him out, come back, listen to me!"

But Harry'd already done it. He'dve liked to reassure Snape, but he realized he wasn't able. Too many things, too many visions, too many emotions. Refusing to think, he closed his eyes and threw his head back, letting out a long scream with all the force of his lungs.

For everything. For the mother whom he hadn't known, and who'd saved him, for the Dursleys who'd hated him and who were dead because of it, for Snape himself, for all that he'd endured…

When he had no voice left to scream, the stone in his chest was still just as heavy. He gasped for a moment, regaining his breath, and an arm came to gently wrap around him.

Before he had time to think, he felt his muscles relax as he leant back against Snape. A moment afterwards, something damp dropped onto his hand, and Harry realized that he'd started to cry, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks, while the professor held him, pressed against him.

When the familiar hand came to rest on his forehead, the stone that was keeping him from breathing seemed to shatter into thousands of pieces, and Harry found himself sobbing despairingly against Snape's chest, while the man whispered comforting words in a low voice.

Part of him was horrified at the idea of crying this way, like a child, in front of the Potions master he'd so wanted to impress…but he couldn't find a way of stopping the hiccoughs shaking him, or the tears flooding down onto the wizard's shirt. But even more, another part of him was shouting for him to take advantage of this moment, of the warmth and comfort that Snape was offering him, of the sun, of his own weakness…to have someone to support him as he cried, just this once. To let out the pain, the despair and anguish, just his once.

Abandoning the effort to regain his composure, he gave himself up to the soft hum of words coming from the professor, his body still shaking with sobs that refused to quiet.

"There, it's going to be fine. It won't be easy, Harry, but you're not alone, I wouldn't leave you. It's probably not a big thing, but we're going to do our best, and in the end everything will be fine. At the least, I promise you that."

Harry wasn't entirely convinced that everything would turn out fine. But it was enough for him to do his best, and if Snape promised to be there, well…

The tears still flowed, but he was fairly certain now that most of them were tears of relief.

* * *

A big thanks to Raewhit for the translation, I still dont know how you manage to do it this fast !

And thanks to all the people who reviewed the story, I love to read you ! By the way, I do have a LJ (it's on my profile), though most posts are in French, I try to post in English too ! Of course, you're welcome there ! :-)


	25. Chapter 25 A Black and White Photo

Chapter Twenty-five: A Black and White Photo

The sun had almost set by the time the boy's sobbing finally subsided, with one last hiccough. For an instant, Severus stopped rubbing soothing circles on the boy's back, something he'd been doing for hours now, and bent over to see his face better.

Harry'd fallen asleep, exhausted by tears and emotion. His eyes were closed as he frowned in his sleep; Severus remained in place for a moment, rocking the boy without thinking.

He'd expected for Harry to end up by exploding, in one way or another, after all that'd happened to him since the beginning of the summer. The boy was perhaps stable, but no sixteen year old teenager could remain perpetually stoic in the face of such a deluge of calamities.

But as for what'd happened…Snape didn't know what he should think. He'd been able to feel Harry's emotions as he sifted through Snape's memories, while he saw the world through the Potions master's eyes. Confusion, of course, incomprehension, fear, and shame as well. And above all, hope. Hope that he placed in him, Severus Snape.

If only things could've remained that simple, but he was going to have to answer questions, of course. He couldn't get out of it this time, not after Harry'd seen Lily and Petunia, James and Black.

Nor after he'd been able to experience the way Snape had lived through those things.

With a sigh, he began to get up, Harry in his arms. Even in his weakened state, he had no trouble carrying him. He should see that he ate more, even at Hogwarts. He remembered often seeing the boy leave a half-full plate. Every time he was shaken or upset, in fact.

Snape shook his head. Harry needed to be watched over. It was time for someone to decide once and for all to take care of the boy, starting with his eating habits, his clothes, and Merlin, his bedtimes, if one were to believe the number of times he'd found him wandering the corridors!

He slowly made his way toward the dungeon, regretting not being able to cast a sleeping spell to keep Harry asleep. But the boy seemed too exhausted to awaken anyway.

Clenching his jaw, Severus laid him carefully in the chair, before swallowing down a Pepperup potion.

Then, with a quick motion, he transformed the chair into a bed again, straightening the boy out and covering him with a blanket. Placing his glasses on the small table to the side, Severus turned to his cauldrons again.

He'd need another potion if he wanted to have enough magic to finish his work, as he was unable to cast the smallest spell without a battery of potions to sustain him. Actually, in this condition he was almost a Squib.

Refusing to allow himself to be discouraged, the professor quickly swallowed down the contents of several phials, shooting one last look at the sleeping boy. He really seemed younger like this, traces of tears still visible on his cheeks.

To think the little devil had managed to Legilimize him without a wand or incantation. Once again, felt a wave of pride wash over him. He had to teach Harry how to control himself, though; that scenario should've never happened—not with himself nor anyone else. It'd taken Snape a long time to accept that this ability, used indiscriminately, could be a curse. Complete truth wasn't always a good thing to possess, and Legilimency carried a price of its own.

At this memory, Severus absentmindedly rubbed at his temples. Yes, he was going to have many things to explain to the boy…many more than he'd have liked.

What if, after that, Harry decided that he couldn't trust the Potions master anymore? Or even talk to him, or want to spend time with him?

A completely uncharacteristic tugging at his heart strings made the wizard shudder. It didn't matter; he had a promise to keep. Even if the boy didn't want to have anything more to do with him, he'd take care of him in his own way.

Like he had before, in short. It would be just another year at Hogwarts.

Snape shook his head, frustrated.

No, certainly not. Lily hadn't wanted to listen to him, and Snape, for his part, had never been able to bring himself to talk to her, not like he should've done. But he wasn't seventeen now, and he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He'd take the time and energy required, because he was in this to the end, and wouldn't let Harry pull away like Lily. Merlin, not now.

Without thinking, Snape began to look for a calming potion, before stopping himself. He didn't hurt anywhere just now, and his hands weren't trembling from any secondary effects of Cruciatus, so why the bloody hell would he need a potion?

Because he was nervous, he realized. Anxious. Troubled. Severus Snape…anguished, the thought drifted slowly through his mind.

By burying certain things, there where they ought to have remained, fifteen years in the past, he'd also caused others to rise to the surface. One way of seeing things, perhaps. One way of living. Or was that _just_ living?

Snape caught himself laughing softly and disconcertedly. Almost bereft of powers, and now a new sentimental vision of the world. Voldemort had no need to try and kill him after all. Snape was going to manage that very well on his own.

A bitter smile on his face as he stirred a potion in the cauldron, Severus felt his neck bristle with a familiar sensation. He turned around toward the bed, and was unsurprised to see the green eyes staring at him.

"How do you feel?" he calmly asked.

The eyes didn't blink, and the boy's face remained immobile

Severus took three potions from the table, and went to sit beside Harry. "Drink these."

The boy obeyed without looking away for even an instant.

"Is that better?"

His answer was a rapid blinking of eyes. The two wizards remained still for a long moment, faces unmoving, their eyes riveted on one another.

Then Severus got up unhurriedly from his chair, and headed for the same small cupboard near the fireplace, where he'd asked Dumbledore to go for potions. Manipulating a stone as he murmured a quick incantation, he lifted the board that served as the bottom, then lifted out a wooden box embossed with leather, which he stroked with his palm.

A box to contain potions didn't surprise Harry; a serviceable cask made of rough wood, unadorned. But this one was different…the mahogany glittered gold in the firelight, and the curved lines of the box, its delicate inlays, stood out in contrast to the angular man holding it.

Carrying the cask as if it were something precious and fragile, Snape returned and took his place beside Harry, who hadn't moved. His movements were neutral, his bearing deliberately relaxed, but Harry could sense that the moment was a solemn one.

The professor opened the box sitting atop his knees, and Harry had to fight the urge to crane his neck to see what was inside.

Trying to keep his expression unreadable, Snape lifted a piece of paper from the box and handed it to the boy.

For a second, Harry thought his heart had stopped beating. A photo…it was an old black-and-white Muggle photo, and despite the absence of color, it only took him an instant to recognize the two children there, perched upon a fence, one of them laughing, the other smiling with uncertain eyes. Lily and Snape. They couldn't have been more than ten, and were posed like two Muggle children on a summer day.

Without thinking, Harry took the photo the professor was handing him, and then sat up to better look at it.

Yes, there wasn't any doubt, even if ten years had passed between this photo and the ones he had in his album; he could easily recognize his mother, her long red hair blowing in the wind, her smiling, soft face lit up with laughter. And Snape…how could he be so similar to and yet at the same time so different from the man sitting beside him, watching his reaction?

The little boy watching Harry's mother seemed torn between the joy of her company and his obvious discomfort at the presence of the camera. His hair was longer than it was now, and framed his face, giving him a closed-off look that contrasted with the open expression of the little girl at his side. But all the affection and admiration the boy had for Lily could be seen in his eyes as he watched her.

Snape and Lily as children. It was surreal.

With his hand, Snape pointed to the photo. "That was taken the summer before we left for Hogwarts," he explained in a measured tone. "It was your grandfather who wanted to take it, so that we'd have a souvenir of the house when we were away. I think this is the only Muggle photo I've ever owned."

"You knew my grandfather?" Harry asked, shocked.

Snape nodded. "He was a good man. Your grandmother as well. I stayed to dine with them sometimes when Lily and I got home late. They were aware that my family situation was a bit…oppressive. They were always very generous to me; their deaths probably affected me as much as that of my own parents. They were murdered the very same day, actually, and for the same reason. Lily was inconsolable.

Harry only stared at him, his eyes wide, his mouth half-open.

"We lived in the same neighborhood as children. You mother didn't know she was a witch until I told her. I must say that the revelation didn't have the effect I'd anticipated," he said with a slight smile.

"But over time, we became friends. Very good friends. We left together for Hogwarts, where we continued to spend time together. Our friendship wasn't well-received, of course…her in Gryffindor, myself in Slytherin. That didn't keep us from studying together, and remaining friends, at least at the beginning. As time went on, things changed. We grew up, and formed other friendships, each in our own circles. Her with your father and his cohorts, and me…with other Slytherins," he said simply.

"What you saw in the Pensieve," he continued after a moment. "I think that was the beginning of the end. She forgave me that time. But she'd understood…when I asked her to forgive me, she listened, and begged me to break off all contact with Voldemort's followers. For a while, everything was fine…we became close again, more than we'd ever been before. Up until the day when the Death Eaters decided it was time to put me back on the right path. When I refused to follow them, they took drastic measures. That's the day your grandparents and my parents were murdered, in the same attack."

Harry let out a gasp of shock. Eyes bulging, he couldn't speak a word, incapable of even making his brain work.

Snape nodded. Harry thought he could see a hint of fear in the somber eyes as he began to speak again.

"And yes…it was because of me that your grandparents died, Harry. They would've no doubt taken you in when your parents died…also dead because of me, by the way." He took a deep breath before going on.

"After that, I understood that Lily was no longer safe. I distanced myself abruptly. When she wanted to come to me, I pushed her away. When she told me she loved me…I laughed in her face. I told her I'd never want to have anything to do with a Mudblood, and I let her go, crying.

"And then, when my position with the Dark Lord was cemented, I thought that it was time to go back and find her, that she was no longer at risk, and that she'd be proud of me. Yes, proud of me… That time, she was the one to laugh. She didn't try to listen to me, and I certainly can't blame her for that. If I'd had the courage to tell her, perhaps…but I didn't, and she went off with James. We left Hogwarts, her on the arm of your father, myself with the Mark on my own. We'd both chosen our fates. A few years later, I sealed both theirs and yours, without knowing it…until afterward.

He waved his hand in the air. "Nothing has ever been the same."

Severus leant back in his chair, feeling even emptier than after having cast his last Protego. How long had it been since he'd last recalled all of that? No, he corrected himself. He'd quite simply never done it. He'd reported the essential facts to Dumbledore, but he'd never spoken of Lily in this way.

And now her son was looking at him, mouth hanging open, confusion filling his eyes.

Resigned, Snape endured his gaze. He waited for the anger to come, then the hatred, perhaps sadness, pain, and betrayal…

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then Harry abruptly closed his mouth, only to open it again. "But she came back, didn't she?"

"Came back?" Snape asked uncertainly.

"She's who I saw…in your memories…at the cemetery, she came to help me. Help us."

Severus didn't know exactly if it was the mention of Lily's ghost or the 'us' that Harry'd just used, but he had trouble swallowing before he continued. "Yes, she came back for you…as well as your father and Black. They were probably the ones who gave you the gift of your new Animagus powers."

"Really? You're sure about that? That makes sense…" the boy murmured.

"There's nothing certain, but the Headmaster shares this opinion."

"I don't have any memory of them…just what I hear when the Dementors are around. My mother screaming, trying to save me."

Snape nodded. "I don't know if this will help you…but my memories are at your disposal."

With those words, he held the open box out to the boy, who took hold of it with a trembling hand, with the same reverence that the professor had demonstrated as he handled it.

Harry held his breath as he lowered his eyes to look into the box.

Photos, he saw immediately, and letters too… and a few objects lying at the bottom of the box like forgotten treasures.

"This was my mother's?" he asked breathlessly.

"The cask was. I'd made it for her, one summer…she returned it to me just before her marriage."

His eyes were far away now, lost in his memories, Harry didn't doubt.

"Did you love her?"

The tone of voice was too indifferent, too innocent. But Severus answered all the same.

"More than anything."

"And you never told her that, did you?"

Snape smiled slightly, bitterly. "Of course not."

"Because Death Eaters never say things like that?" Harry asked in a challenging voice.

"Not to a Mudblood, no," Snape replied.

"Don't call my mother that," Harry muttered.

Once again, that pained, small smile.

Gritting his teeth, the boy picked up a random photo. A wizarding photo this time, and in it, one could see the same children, a bit older now, on the banks of the Hogwarts' lake. Both of them were laughing this time, and Harry thought that he'd never seen this expression on the adult version of Snape.

In the photo, he seemed to be about thirteen, and was standing in water up to his knees, soaked from head to foot, splashing a hysterically laughing Lily trying to shied herself. Both of them were in shirts and trousers, the colors of their respective Houses clearly evident in the color photo.

It was nice weather, and they both seemed happy. It was almost easy to imagine the scene: a Saturday afternoon in the spring, they must've been talking as they neared the lake, and suddenly, Lily got that little mischievous gleam in her eyes, and had pushed Severus into the water, bursting into laughter as she watched him get up again, soaking wet. He'd held out a hand for her to help him up, but instead of grabbing it, he'd retaliated, splashing her in turn, while Lily laughed even harder.

So, who then, could've taken this photo?

"McGonagall," Severus answered his unspoken question, making Harry startle.

"Dumbledore had just given her a camera, and she spent her time taking photos of everything that moved…or not. A veritable curse for many couples at Hogwarts that year. But she was tactful enough to give all the photos she took to her victims."

"You…you were dating?" Harry asked.

"Not at the time, no. We were just friends…it was only after the episode you saw in the Pensieve that things changed."

Now it was Harry's turn to swallow hard, as he replaced the photo into the box.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, their eyes lost in the contemplation of the bit of sky that the window let in.

"I'm sorry," Severus finally said wearily.

Harry forced himself to meet his eyes. "I saw them, you know. My parents and Sirius, when I was a prisoner at Malfoy Manor."

Snape looked at him impassively.

"They…told me I'd disappointed them. That they were dead because of me, and that it hadn't been worth it. That they regretted being my…" He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence.

"Harry, they came back for you. Without their intervention, I would've never been able to get us out of the cemetery, let alone get you away from Voldemort. They love you, Harry, much more than you know…"

"They did it so I can finish whatever I have to do, what everyone's waiting for me to do. But they're angry with me, I know it, they told me so…."

It was Snape's turn to shake his head in frustration. "Harry, you don't seem to realize. To accomplish what they did, your parents and Black summoned up all the love they had for you, all their desire to protect you and save you. There was nothing calculating about it; they did it for you, and for you only. That scenario you saw, where they told you… I know I'm not mistaken in telling you that it was certainly all an act on the part of Lucius and Bellatrix. Lily would've never said such a thing, let along thought it. And your father….would've been very proud of you, Harry. Truly very proud."

Was it all in his mind, or had Snape's voice become husky as he said those last words? Harry wondered. But what he'd just said had made sense. If the episode in Dumbledore's office had never taken place, nor the one at the Dursleys'…then certainly this one could equally have been a macabre act as well.

And yet….

"I saw you, you as well. Just before they came…you were with Voldemort. Did that really happen, I saw it in your memories…"

Snape nodded. "I seemed to see you, that's correct. Or rather your eyes, Lily's eyes. I was looking desperately for a way to get you out of there, but I had no other choice but to wait."

"I know," Harry said gently.

Snape let out a low groan. Clearly, Harry knew. He'd seen the scene through Snape's own eyes just several hours ago.

"Are you upset with me?" the boy asked.

Disconcerted, Snape sighed. "Where to begin? No, Harry, I'm not cross with you…I think I'm right in saying that you weren't trying to break into my mind?

The boy shook his head sheepishly. "I wanted to understand …but not that way. I don't know how I was able to do that."

"Voldemort is an expert in Legilimency. You've most likely acquired a brand new mastery of this power. It's sometimes difficult to control; we'll work on that. Until then, I'd appreciate it if you'd do your best to see that this sort of situation doesn't happen again."

Harry nodded his head, stunned. After Snape's reaction when Harry'd looked at the contents of his Pensieve, he'd expected an explosion over this new transgression...but was this so surprising, that there wasn't one? Because things had changed between the two of them as well; he'd had a front row seat to see into the professor's mind. The wizard was attached to him, and to Shadow, and anyway….

"When my mother carried me to you, at Godric's Hollow, after the cemetery, she said something to you…"

Snape nodded slowly. "She asked me to take care of you."

_Which isn't entirely correct, _the Potions master thought. But not completely false either. Even if Harry needed to hear certain things, it was much too soon to tell him that Lily wanted Harry to be _with Snape._. The boy was still much too upset to know what to make of this sort of revelation.

"I'm sorry," Harry suddenly let out.

"Harry," Snape sighed, "it rather seems that it is I who owes you an apology…but so be it, enlighten me, what are you sorry for?"

"You really don't have any more power, do you?"

Snape felt his jaw clench. "Of course I do. My magic is simple weakened just now, and I'll have to rely on potions to preserve a sufficient store of it, but my powers will increase, bit by bit, over time."

"Like with Voldemort," murmured the boy.

"Yes, like with Voldemort," Snape confirmed.

A long silence settled between them. At the end of the room, a cauldron bubbled, a peaceful sound in the quiet of the dungeon.

"Do you think I look like my mother?" Harry asked abruptly.

"Certainly," Snape replied.

"And my father?"

"As well."

"Whom do I resemble most?" the boy insisted.

"Neither in particular—you're fully your own person, and it was hard to see you otherwise…once past my initial prejudices," Snape said.

"Your initial…" Harry murmured.

"Those first years—perhaps I should say," the professor answered softly.

"You hated me because of my father, isn't that right? And now you accept me, thanks to my mother…"

"Harry, it's not that simple," Snape said as he sat up straighter. "It's true that your resemblance to your father, what you stood for, clouded my judgment up until this summer. I really don't have any excuse, except that I didn't want to think of the past anymore, and your arrival forced me to, in a way. But you're the one who's made me change my mind, not Lily…."

"Me, or Shadow?" Harry asked with a hint of challenge in his voice.

"I assume it was Shadow at the start," Snape admitted. "But strangely, I remember often thinking that Shadow looked a great deal like you, even before knowing…"

"You're a spy; I imagine you're used to noticing everything."

Snape nodded. "Whatever the case, you're the one I care about now. And I'll repeat what I've already said: I'll always be there to help you, Harry."

"Always?" the boy asked.

"As long as you have need," Snape promised.

"It's weird, isn't it? All of this…you, being here…I don't know if it's really sunk in yet…"

"No, I imagine not," said the Potions master. "But I hope that'll come with time."

"Time? Term starts at Hogwarts tomorrow. I can't say I'm really in a hurry to be back in Potions class…" Harry murmured.

"Harry, I'm not going to claim that my attitude was entirely dictated by my role as Voldemort's spy…but a great many of my personal attacks toward you were acts for the Death Eater children present. I no longer care about any of that now, and I'm the first to feel relieved," Snape said.

"That's a bit flippant…" Harry let loose, before abruptly looking away.

Severus found himself feeling more wounded by the remark than he would've believed. It was totally deserved, however…

"I apologize for that as well."

The words slipped out almost naturally, and he wasn't entirely certain of having planned to say them. Simply astonishing, and astonishingly easy to say…

It would seem that Harry was just as shocked to hear them; he stared at Snape, wide-eyed. "No, I…you didn't…" the boy stopped. "Yes," he continued slowly, "I suppose you could say that. It's not as if nothing ever happened. But I feel bad, saying that to you after all you've done for me. I mean…things have changed."

"Certainly," Snape answered, "but that doesn't in any way excuse the mistakes of the past. I simply hope they won't keep you from accepting my help."

"No," Harry said. "After all, you're…"

_My human. My Snape._

He shrugged. "I trust you."

Snape smiled at him slightly.

Harry held the wooden cask out to him reluctantly. "Could I see it again later? I'd like to look at the other photos, but…not all at once. If it's all right?" the boy asked, full of hope.

But Snape pushed the box back toward him. "It's yours, keep it. Try to take care of it…"

Harry was stunned speechless for a moment. "I can't accept…it's yours, these are your souvenirs!"

"Most of these things belonged to your mother. They're rightfully yours," Snape answered gently.

"But you won't have anything left of hers…."

"You are here; that will always be the best souvenir of Lily I could have. I know these photos and letters by heart, Harry; I won't miss them," said the professor.

Harry didn't know what to say, but the lump in his throat kept him from speaking anyway.

Snape apologizing and giving him is photos of Lily. Talking to him as if he…as if he…

With shaking hands, Harry placed the cask beside him. He would've liked to have been able to tell him, explain to him…but explain what? That he didn't know what to make of things anymore, that he needed him, that he was afraid as well, that his powers frightened him, that he felt like a tightrope walker toeing a taut wire…

But he couldn't. And not only because of the lump in his throat. It was all simply too, too much for him, too much for the moment…

Everything was jumbled up in his head, to the point of becoming a black, indistinct mass, and when he opened his eyes again a moment later, the room was bathed in soft light, and things were suddenly much simpler and clearer.

The Man In Black was there in front of him, and the fire was pleasantly warming his fur, and it was a fine day. He fell to his back, rubbing his fur against the coverlet to mark his territory.

He was home.

***

Severus Snape watched the clearly contented cat rolling on the coverlet, like any other pet cat would've done. The contrast with the boy's pained expression of just a few moments ago was bothersome.

"Harry?" he tried.

The cat didn't react.

"Harry Potter?"

The cat raised its head at his voice, but it was obvious that it hardly cared.

"Harry, if you understand, I'd like you to transform back again."

The cat rubbed its paw against its head without paying him any attention.

"Shadow?" Snape said with a sigh.

This time, the green eyes questioningly sought out Snape's.

Severus leant back in his chair. This time, it was conclusive. There wasn't any possible doubt, and their conversation of just minutes ago hadn't changed a thing.

He'd expected it, obviously. Otherwise, it would've been too simple…

The Potions master got up and threw a handful of Floo powder into the grate. "Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts."

Sticking his head and chest into the flames, he glanced around the familiar office. The Headmaster was there, quill in hand, looking up at him, his eyes full of kindness.

"Severus, I didn't think to see you so soon! Come in, come in!"

"Thank you, Albus, but that won't be necessary. I just wanted to alert you that Potter and myself will be late for the start of term at Hogwarts."

His statement was met by a long silence. "And how late will you be?" Dumbledore finally asked.

"At the very least, two days. I'm sorry, Albus, but Harry is still too fragile, and I don't want to leave him alone. I'll do what I can to meet the Slytherins tomorrow evening after the Sorting Ceremony, but I cannot promise you anything."

"You're taking your role as protector very seriously, my boy…" Albus began.

"I take my position as Head of House just as seriously, but Harry needs me more than my students just now. I'm sure you can understand that," Snape retorted.

"My remark certainly wasn't a criticism," Dumbledore said with a conciliatory gesture. "You both need time to get back on your feet, which I understand completely. I'll take care of your Slytherins, Severus, have no fear. I hope, though, that your absence won't be for too long…we need you, and I'm sure Harry'd like to see his friends."

"That's part of the problem, Albus," Snape explained. "He's still not convinced they're alive. He's still having trouble putting together all that's happened…and what never really happened. Best to take these things a step at a time. I suggest that Weasley and Granger come to the Manor to see Harry first, when he's well again."

"Well again? I'd somehow had the impression that our young friend was progressing nicely under your influence, Severus," Dumbledore said, surprised.

"Albus, just a few days ago, he was in Voldemort's clutches. Don't ask too much of him. Even heroes must break down from time to time, and yours is only a teenager."

The little sparkle in the Headmaster's eyes had brightened at the word 'hero', but Severus didn't bat an eye. "And what's become of the symbol, Severus, the weapon you didn't want to abandon?"

"A cat," the Potions master replied laconically. "If you have nothing else to tell me...?"

"Nothing else, Severus," the Headmaster said in a jovial voice. "Other than to thank you, and tell you to take care of yourself…and your cat."

With a growl, Snape pulled out of the fireplace. Why was it that Dumbledore always had to have the last word?

"Very well, Potter, just the two of us," he said as he turned toward the cat. "Shadow—Harry, look at me. I want your undivided attention. You-are-not-a-cat," he hammered out. "You are an Animagus: uncontrolled, illegal, come from who knows where, but an Animagus all the same."

The cat listened attentively, its big green eyes full of curiosity.

"Potter," Snape began. "Harry," he sighed, "why do I have the feeling that I've seen this expression on your human face before? And more precisely, during Potions class, when you feigned great interest in the lesson, all the while planning strategy for the next Quidditch match?"

The cat hung its head, seeming to concentrate.

"Yes, exactly like that," Snape murmured. Quidditch. This was the thought Harry attached himself to in order to resume his human form. He had to use it.

"You remember, Harry, Quidditch? Flying through the air, avoiding Bludgers, capturing the Snitch?"

Severus groaned at his own lack of enthusiasm. It most likely wasn't the best way to summon up memories…

An idea suddenly flashed through his mind. Dumbledore had left him the things he'd recovered from Harry's Muggle family, his class things, some clothing…and the birthday gifts he'd just received!

With the hint of a smile, Severus made the boy's trunk appear in front of him. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. With a quick move, he threw the miniature broom into the air, a gift from the youngest Weasley boy.

The little broom began to circle around them, clearly searching for where to go.

Snape noticed that Shadow, as if hypnotized, intently followed its comings and goings. A good start, he thought; perhaps this wouldn't be so difficult after all. It was a matter of finding the right triggers…

He felt his heart jump in his chest when the cat got up to head after the flying broom.

"That's good, Harry, look at it, you remember?" he encouraged the cat.

The cat looked at him briefly, before returning its attention to the broom. Then, crouching, it launched itself at the object, trapping it agilely between its paws, before nailing it to the floor and gnawing at it, its eyes glowing with satisfaction. It lost its concentration for a moment as it heard the groan that the Potions master let out, and the little broom used this chance to once again take to the air, spinning around the tomcat.

Ignoring the Man In Black, the cat took off across the room in wild pursuit, Snape's disconcerted eyes following it.

This wasn't at all what he'd expected. He would've liked to believe that these were Harry's Seeker reflexes at work, but seeing the quintessentially feline jumps of the cat, he doubted it.

Quite simply a young cat at play.

And could he be upset with Harry? Shadow didn't seem worried about anything but his cat life; it would seem he was happy and carefree, while Harry was struggling to find his sense of equilibrium after the trials he'd just had to live through.

If he himself had been able to transform into a cat… Getting a grip on himself, Severus raised his wand. "_Accio_ miniature broom."

The broom crossed the room to come to rest in his hand. A bit begrudgingly, the cat trotted to him, and jumped onto the chair again.

"Well, so much for Quidditch. Clearly, it will perhaps require…" The terribly vivid image of himself perched on his broom with a black cat on his shoulder flitted through his mind; he shook his head as he made a disgusted face. This wasn't Salem, by Merlin, and he strongly doubted that this sort of experience would help them much!

Lacking conviction, he opened Harry's trunk. He loathed ransacking through the boys' belongings, and for some reason, he doubted the solution would be there.

It wasn't the positive parts of Harry's life that would make the boy come back to himself, but it _was_ the darkest periods that were going to keep him from doing so.

Severus tapped his check with his finger. He'd known he'd end up approaching it this way. The solution was truly extreme, and he would've dearly loved to be able to avoid it, but he was only losing time by hesitating.

Tensing his jaw, he threw another handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, and stuck his head into the flames.

Shadow never ceased to be amazed by the Man In Black's abilities. He could capture the little flying broom with a single gesture from the other end of the room, and he went through flames as if they weren't even there!

His admiration for the wizard knew no bounds. A light purring in his throat, he fell onto the jumper. If he'd just give him something to eat, he'd be completely content!

The Man In Black pulled his head from the flames, then his black eyes moved to locate the cat's. They seemed darker now, his expression resigned and his teeth clenched.

"Listen to me well, Harry. I was hoping to be able to put this off until later, but it'd be a mistake to let this situation go on. You're probably not going to like what's about to happen, at least initially, and believe me, you will certainly not be the only one. Try not to distance yourself, and no nonsense. Ah. I don't know. Try…to be yourself."

Slightly worried, Shadow looked at him, his head cocked to the side. The Man In Black's tone of voice clearly told him that this was a critical moment.

Stepping out with determination, Snape went to the cat and took it in his arms. Everything was arranged; he couldn't back out now. Throwing a handful of Floo powder, he enunciated once again, "The Burrow!" and dashed into the flames, the cat pressed against his chest.

An outing to the Weasleys. Merlin preserve him…

The Burrow's tiny kitchen had always struck him as the most abominably friendly and disorganized place he'd ever seen. Each time an emergency meeting had taken place here, he'd felt more uncomfortable in the family décor than in the Malfoy dungeons.

The sensation began again as soon as he saw Molly Weasley trotting toward them, when they'd scarcely entered the room.

"Severus, Harry, I'm so happy to see you! Come in!"

The Potions master felt Shadow tense against him, so he forced himself to assume a more relaxed attitude. He was there to reassure Harry, so it was senseless to add to his anxiousness.

Mrs. Weasley was already coming over to pet the cat, and Snape saw panic get the better of the animal.

"Molly, it'd be better not to rush things. Harry isn't entirely himself just now," he said to the woman, who pulled back, disappointed.

"Of course, of course…where would you like to start? A tour of the house, perhaps? I asked Arthur and the children to stay outside for now; they were a bit upset, actually." She nervously twisted the tea towel in her hands. "Oh, it's so frustrating…we'd hoped to take Harry for part of the summer; but of course, after all that's happened, it's a wonderful thing that he was able to stay with you, Severus. We're all very grateful to you."

"Molly," Snape interrupted. "Could you try to act naturally? The reason for this visit is to convince Harry that no one is dead, and believe me, that isn't clear at all, just to listen to you!"

For an instant, Mrs. Weasley seemed torn between indignation and guilt, before taking refuge in more familiar territory. "Would you like a spot of tea? Some milk for Harry?"

"He doesn't take milk, but a cup of tea would be welcome," Snape agreed as blandly as he could.

Leaving Molly to busy herself at the stove, he tried to set Shadow on the floor, but the cat didn't have the least intention of leaving his Man In Black.

Heart racing, he clung desperately to the wizard's black robes. This place didn't suit him, and the woman who talked nonstop seemed particularly nervous.

Agile fingers detached his claws from the fabric, and he found himself standing on the paved floor of the kitchen, examining the room with caution as he searched for potential threats.

The roomed seemed somehow familiar…a smell, perhaps, an uncertain quality that gave him an impression of comfort and wellbeing, despite the tension filling the room.

But something was going on here, something that had nothing to do with the décor…

Shivering, he went to take cover between the Man In Black's legs. Whatever occurred, he knew the man wouldn't let anything bad happen to him, but he also knew that the anxiety filling him wasn't coming from an outside threat.

He heard the sound of voices, coming from a different time.

_"Pass me the butter…"_

_"You want some more toast, Harry?"_

_"Fred, stop pestering your brother."_

_"Mum, I'm George, could you at least make an effort?"_

The cat shook its head. The only sound filling the room just now was that of the conversation between his Man In Black and the woman with the lively gestures. Still, he could almost see the shadows of silhouettes around the table, pale ghosts that left his stomach in knots and his mouth dry, without him knowing why.

Without thinking, he jumped to the Man In Black's knees.

"Well, Severus," said Molly Weasley, dumbfounded, "it seems that Harry is very used to you!"

"For now, it's just a matter of the cat's personality. He's much more outgoing in this form, even though our relationship has indeed changed in recent weeks," the Potions master replied.

"After all that's happened, I don't doubt it. Do you think he recognizes the house?"

"It's possible. But he certainly doesn't realize it completely," said Snape.

"Should I have the children come in?" Molly asked, clearly ill-at-ease.

Severus hesitated for a moment. Shadow was slightly shaking, probably from memories trying to come to the surface again. Reluctantly, he agreed. As painful as it was, they had to see it through to the end.

"Only your youngest boy and Miss Granger, to start off. You've brought them up to speed on the situation?"

Molly nodded sadly. "They know that Harry won't recognize them right away, and that they should take care not to rush him. To be honest, I'm counting on Hermione to keep Ron from being too enthusiastic!"

"Indeed, that would be more sensible. Can your kitchen withstand a possible feline escape attempt?"

"That shouldn't pose a problem," said Mrs. Weasley. "Should I call the children?"

"Please." While she went to the window, Snape stood from his chair and once again placed the cat on the floor.

"Stay calm. You've nothing to fear here; I just want you to do your best to remember who you are; let your memories guide you," he murmured.

An instant later, the door opened and two teenagers silently entered the kitchen. Molly must've truly lectured them before their arrival, because they appeared nervous and uncertain, not daring to make a move.

For once, Snape doubted that he was the cause of it.

As for the cat, it pressed against his leg, watching the new arrivals distrustfully.

"Hullo, Harry!" Hermione finally said, putting a knee on the floor so she could be at the cat's level.

"It's really nice to see you, mate," Ron added hesitantly.

Shadow flicked his ears, but nothing indicated that he recognized them. He didn't appear to be as bothered as Severus had feared, though, so he took a step farther away from him.

"Molly, I think it'd be best if I go somewhere else," he said evenly.

"Of course. I'll go to the sitting room with you," Mrs. Weasley said. With a glance of warning toward the two teenagers, she opened the door and followed Snape out, leaving the three friends alone in the kitchen.

The door had scarcely closed when Ron let out a groan of relief. "Really, Harry, I don't know how…are you all right? He's not done anything to you? Snape, I mean, is he treating you well?"

The cat crouched down, its ears flattened. His Man In Black had left him alone, so did that mean he had nothing to fear from these two humans? He didn't like this.

"Ron, that's enough! You know very well that Professor Snape saved Harry!"

"That doesn't necessarily mean he's nice to him; he'd already saved his life in first-year—that didn't keep him from being nasty afterward!" the boy retorted.

As the dispute continued, Shadow's head was a jumble of thoughts. On the one hand, he was fairly persuaded that the two humans were saying bad things about his Man In Black, and that was making him furious. On the other hand… these voices and this conversation had a familiar ring that he couldn't quite put his finger on; it made him think vaguely of a different place, with long corridors, a fire, and for some inexplicable reason, the colors red and gold.

The more the sensations bombarded him inside his head, the more he felt his heart race and his breathing spiral out of control. Where was the Man In Black? He needed him, he wanted to go home…he shouldn't be here, the two humans shouldn't have found him here…it wasn't normal…

"He doesn't seem in that great a shape to me," the boy continued.

"Obviously, Ron, you're doing this on purpose, by Merlin! Harry was with Voldemort only a few days ago!" the young girl answered, appalled.

Harry… The Man In Black…he too had called him that, as if he'd expected something by calling him by that name.

"I don't trust him, that's all! Look at Harry, he doesn't even recognize us!"

"That's exactly why we're here, and you're not helping much!"

"Who knows, maybe this isn't even the same cat!"

"Oh, enough," the girl groaned. "Harry, I'm sorry, all of that's so ridiculous. We were terribly worried, you being kidnapped right after what'd just happened, it was really horrible! Is there something we can do for you?"

Her voice was shaking now, and new images came to flit through the cat's head. She cried often, didn't she? This human was rather emotional…the boy, on the other hand….

"Hermione, he can't understand you," Ron said as he slid his arm around her shoulders.

…the boy was in love with her. Amusing.

"He understood us fine at Grimmauld Place," she sniffled.

"That was different, 'Mione," the boy tried to console her.

"Oh, you still have your necklace, Harry!" Hermione remarked.

The necklace. He knew this word; they were talking about the silver thing around his neck. Sometimes he scratched at it, but he liked to feel it there; it was comforting…

This time a much clearer image than the ones before insinuated itself into his mind, and Shadow had to sit down under the force of the shock.

The necklace. The girl. He was perched on a chair, in a different room, and the human, her eyes wet, was telling him how happy she was that the necklace had helped him. And he'd not been afraid of her; on the contrary, he'd gone closer and placed a paw on her face, and had rubbed against her….

The necklace. The bracelet…a letter, an envelope, an owl; he knew that window, he'd fled through its bars. It was she, the girl who'd sent…the bracelet. He'd put it on his wrist…his what?

Suddenly seized with panic, the cat jumped back violently, until its back hit the wall. Just in front of him, the two teenagers were watching him, wide-eyed, stunned speechless. His heart about to beat out of his chest, Shadow reflected their bewildered looks back to them. He shouldn't be there…they were…they….

This entire place shouldn't be here! The images were all mixed together in his head; a smoking ruin, the scattered bodies, these same faces now watching him, covered in blood, eyes that were fixed and vacant…and despair, the unbearable despair that'd spread through him…

Panic-stricken, he took a single leap to the window ledge, throwing himself against the glass pane to break it, letting out a meow of distress. He had to get out of here immediately!

He heard someone open the door, and the human start to shout, "Professor! Professor Snape! Come quick!"

The sound of footsteps followed, and an instant later, the Man In Black appeared in the room, slamming the door behind him. Without hesitation, Shadow streaked toward him, jumping into arms that caught him in mid-air, before holding him against his black robes.

Safe…at last.

"It will be all right, Harry, calm yourself. Everything's fine. Look around you, everything is real, you understand? Let your memories come back…"

Despite himself, Shadow opened his eyes again and met those of the two teenagers watching him with their mouths hanging open. He'd seen those expressions before on those same two faces…and in the same circumstances: when they'd been surprised to see him go to the Man In Black. But that the time, things had been different.

And now, things were wrong, terribly unreal…because they should've never been there, watching him; they were dead, and this house had been destroyed!

This realization struck him full-force. They couldn't be there, that's what was wrong! But his wizard was there too, and he was very real….

He felt hands carefully pick him up and place him on the table. He turned to look at the Man In Black, and read the calm determination in his eyes. He had something to accomplish, and the wizard would be at his side, whatever happened.

The two young wizards stealthily approached the table and stayed there, unmoving, their faces full of hope and doubt.

Gathering all of his courage, Shadow crossed the table and got close enough to almost touch them, his body completely tense, ready to flee at the slightest sign of a threat.

But they didn't move; actually, they hardly seemed to breathe. H felt his heart pound even harder. They were still alive, then? They had to be! _He'd_ promised….

Who? The Man In Black, surely, and someone else as well. They had to be real, this had to be the truth; so many things depended on it…and these people were…important. Very important.

With one last step, he was within reach of the redheaded boy. He stuck out his nose to sniff at his arm…his scent was familiar and, especially, alive. He could sense his warmth, hear the beating of his heart. He looked deeply into the boy's eyes, and felt something melt inside him at his kind, friendly expression.

With unsteady steps, he headed for the girl. Like he'd done in his memories, he placed a paw on her arm, and when she leant in toward him, instead of fleeing, he placed another black paw on her face. The bracelet. Hermione. Alive…so, Dumbledore had been right.

He would've liked to wrap them in his arms, explain to them, but he couldn't; the mixed-up emotions in the cat's head kept him from doing so.

Jumping to the floor, he turned to face Snape, then meowed softly. He saw the wizard smile with what strongly resembled pride, as he lifted his wand.

"_Animagus Revelio."_

A moment later, a brown-haired tornado grabbed him around the neck, while Ron clapped him enthusiastically on the shoulder.

"Not a moment too soon, mate. A bit longer and we were going to get out the cat food for you!"

Harry smiled at them, suddenly not knowing what to say. "I…thanks, Hermione, the bracelet…I'll explain it to you later. You're really here, aren't you? And this is really the Burrow… Oh, Merlin. I've been so stupid, haven't I?"

"Much to the contrary, Harry," Snape said gravely. "You've just shown proof of remarkable analytical abilities…for a cat, certainly, but not any less valuable. Excellent work. My congratulations, Mr. Potter."

The boy graced him with a smile. Snape felt his heart constrict at the sight of that radiant face. They'd done it, this time. Harry was going to heal; he was going to have his friends back again, as well as his life. He wouldn't need Snape any longer, and would gradually pull away as he regained his self-confidence, like any other teenager his age.

Harry needed someone to watch out for him, yes. But he no longer needed an adult in his life. Snape'd come along much too late for that.

He still seemed so fragile there, his sparkling eyes a bit lost, joking animatedly with his friends.

"Severus," a voice said softly at his side. "Would you like more tea?"

He pulled himself from his thoughts to turn to Molly Weasley, who was watching him kindly.

"Gladly, thank you."

After all, Harry had some catching up to do with his friends…but he still seemed a bit uncertain, a pained spark flashing in his eyes from time to time. No need to prolong this session for too long; Harry had already made considerable progress, so he didn't have to push things too much.

"You've done excellent work, Severus," Molly said gently as she served him another cup of tea, and then sat beside him.

"He won't be ready for the start of term," Snape replied. "We'll arrive in a few days, if all goes well. He's not had enough time to recover."

"After all that's happened, no one's expecting that he'll be entirely the same, that much is clear," Molly agreed. "But given the circumstances…I find him remarkably serene. Much of that because of you, Severus. It's obvious that Harry trusts you, cat or human."

Snape nodded as he took a mouthful of tea. As much as he appreciated that Molly had noticed, he all of a sudden felt very protective of his relationship with Harry. That was solely his business, really, and the boy's, of course. But Harry appeared to be discussing other subjects, laughing with his friends over Merlin only knew what silliness.

Obviously relieved, the youngest Weasley boy came toward them.

"Mum, can I tell Fred and George to come in? They have things to show Harry!"

Molly opened her mouth to reply, but Snape interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but are going to have to go."

"Oh," Ron said disappointedly.

But seeing the gleam of relief that passed through Harry's eyes, Snape knew he'd made the right choice. Harry'd experienced enough emotion for today.

The boy said goodbye to his friends with a contrite smile.

"See you tomorrow, Harry!" Hermione said. "I suppose you'll be going directly to Hogwarts?"

"Um, I'm not sure…" Harry replied. He turned hesitantly toward Snape.

"We'll be a few days late. Not to worry, Miss Granger, you're soon be reunited with Harry."

Ron and Hermione nodded their heads regretfully.

"Well, see you later. Take care of yourself, mate," Ron said, with a furtive glance for Snape.

"Don't worry."

With that, Harry went, his steps sure and a happy smile on his face, to join Snape by the fireplace. Severus couldn't hold back the gesture that came to him spontaneously. Throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, he placed an arm around the boy's shoulders as they stepped calmly toward the grate.

And though he didn't miss the chorus of alarmed gasps behind him, Harry, on the other hand, let himself lean against the man, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

***

Home. They were home, Harry thought as he stepped into the laboratory. He liked the Burrow, and he'd been more than a bit relieved to see that it hadn't been destroyed, but this place…it was different.

He looked up to the professor, who'd reluctantly removed his arm from his shoulders.

"How do you feel?"

That question occurred often nowadays.

"Good. Thanks. Thanks…I mean, for everything. I'm still having trouble grasping it, but the fact of being able to see them and know they're alive. It was really a relief. I think I was really apprehensive about seeing them again," he confessed.

"Nothing surprising about that," Snape agreed. "That confrontation was by necessity painful, especially in those circumstances. You really did well with it, Harry."  
Then, a moment later, he added, "I'm proud of you."

Saying the words aloud had cost him, but he was rewarded when he saw the expression on Harry's face. Surprise at first, then a mixture of childish joy and intense relief, which lit up the boy's features.

There ensued a long, comfortable silence between them.

"I'm glad about not leaving tomorrow…" Harry finally murmured.

Snape nodded. "You'll need some time to be sure of mastering your transformations, and simply to be ready to go there."

"You're staying too?" Harry eagerly asked.

"A few days of rest won't do me harm. I'll still return, though, to visit the Slytherins after the Sorting Ceremony and have a look at them. If it doesn't bother you, you could wait for me in my office at Hogwarts."

Harry hesitated for an instant. "Could Ron and Hermione stay with me?"

Snape narrowed his eyes inquisitively. "So as not to be alone, or to ransack my office?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. And that was good, really good, he thought.

"Just so I can talk to them, Professor, really! Find out how the start of term went, and…what people are saying."

"About you?" Snape asked.

The boy nodded.

"Everyone will know, most likely. I think you suspect that already…" Severus said. "The newspapers have had it in the headlines since your disappearance, the day of your birthday. Harry Potter has disappeared, Harry Potter was taken by Voldemort…everything's been said, and then some, as usual. You'll hear more false rumors than actual facts, Harry. Don't forget that. People like to talk…"

"Is that why you don't want me to go back to Hogwarts right away?"

"In part," Snape admitted. "But that delay will create as many problems as it solves, though. Your friends and professors will have time to straighten out certain facts and dispel a few rumors, but your absence will spawn others. Nothing very amusing, in any case."

"And you? What have they said about you?"

Snape smiled somberly. "In the end, the Death Eater isn't one…or perhaps he is. Most people remain convinced that I worked for your loss. Only the sons of Death Eaters will be completely convinced of my innocence, or of my guilt, as it happens."

"And these are your students…" Harry murmured.

"Worse than that, these are my protégés. This year will probably be more difficult to manage than others, yes. But it's really not important. Never having to spy again is a huge compensation."

"Do they know that…that you're lodging me?" Harry asked, the implications of what Snape'd just told him becoming clearer and clearer.

"No, not at the moment," Snape answered, all the while staring at him with piecing eyes. "No one needs to know, Harry, so don't worry."

"That's not what I meant!" the boy protested. "I don't want…I mean, I'd like to stay in touch with you at Hogwarts, if that's all right with you, and I don't want to have to hide it."

It seemed to Harry that the Potions master's eyes became considerably warmer at these words.

"My door is always open, here as well as at Hogwarts," he said calmly and reassuringly.

Harry bit his lips. That wasn't exactly what he'd meant, but…it would have to do.

"I don't want to cause trouble for you either," Harry said at last.

"The only troubles that you'll most certainly cause me are the knowing looks that Dumbledore has already begun to send my way, and which risk spreading rapidly through the rest of the teaching staff. I think I can deal with that, however," Snape finished with a small sly smile.

"You…oh. I suppose I won't be spared that either. After five years spent insulting each other, it must look a bit strange to see us talking normally to each other," Harry said with a forced smile. "But I'll miss this place…the Manor, the laboratory especially. I really feel good here."

He sensed Snape tense at his words.

"You like the Manor?" he asked, as if he found the idea inconceivable.

Harry looked at him curiously. "Of course. It's peaceful, at least when Voldemot isn't trying to steal my powers. The park is huge, I like the view from my window and…I don't know. It's mostly the dungeon that I like." He shrugged. "It's the first place where I've ever felt at home, even if it was as a cat. But you can be sure I have no intention of marking my territory!"

Snape smiled at the joke, but Harry could tell that it was forced. Something in what he'd said had just upset the man.

"Your room, Harry, it will remain yours. Do what you like with it, change the décor, leave your things there, I won't meddle. Consider yourself at home."

The boy remained speechless, stunned.

"I can't accept, I mean, it's your home. I know very well that I'm not a cat, I simply meant…"

Snape stopped him with a hand. "Actually, Harry, this place belongs as much to you as to myself. I know you already have Grimmauld Place. Albus has perhaps not yet had the chance to tell you, but you've inherited all of Black's possessions. Be that as it may, whether you use it or not, that room will remain yours. I've enough empty rooms here; it will not cause a lack, believe me"

Harry shook his head. He wasn't sure he understood. Dumbledore had sent him a letter at the start of the summer, advising him that he was the legitimate owner of Grimmauld Place, but the house only held bad memories, and the shadow of a bitter and worn-out Sirius; he'd never thought to return there.

He'd never thought to return to the Manor after the hols either, but not for the same reasons.

"That won't put you out? I can do the cooking, you know, and everything you want me to…"

"I'd be glad to sample your cooking, but that's not necessary. You don't have to earn the right to come here. As I told you, this place belongs as much to you as to myself. More so, certainly…" Snape murmured.

Harry shook his head, dumbfounded. "I don't understand."

"Certainly not," Snape replied. "But it's truly beginning to get late; a good meal and night's sleep seem in order."

"And a shower," Harry added as he spied the state of his clothes.

Snape nodded. "Your list of school supplies is in my office; we'll make use of a trip to Diagon Alley to get them and buy you new clothing."

"That's perfect for wizarding robes, but I've never been able to find a single pair of decent jeans there…" Harry lamented.

"A trip to London as well, in that case," Snape said.

"You'll go with me?" Harry asked with a wide smile.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter, if I went to look for you in Voldemort's lair, I can indeed escort you to a few clothing shops, fashionable amongst Muggle teenagers, Merlin help me!"

Despite the memories, the boy couldn't help bursting into laughter. "Wait until you get there before you say that!" Then he continued, "Thanks, Professor. Really."

"Severus."

"Excuse me?" Harry said, disconcerted.

"If you are to regularly come to stay in your room, best remember that I have a first name. An offer good only in this territory, Potter!" the professor said with a dark look.

"I…er…yes, of course, Professor…Severus!"

The Potions master gave him a little smile. "Not so easy, was it? Use it as you like. Really, Harry, however you feel most at ease."

The boy nodded, clearly still shocked.

A room. Severus. Did that mean that he was really home? Not only within these walls, but at Snape's side, and even after they were back at Hogwarts?

While the professor was preparing a meal with a few quick incantations, Harry let himself be cradled by the idea. A home. A family. Not just someone, he corrected himself, but someone who'd take care of him, and who wanted him there…not because he pitied him, or for what Harry stood for, but for himself, he recalled, as he remembered the memories he'd seen in Snape's mind.

He felt a smile appear at his lips, but not just at his lips, in truth. His entire face was all of a sudden more relaxed, and his eyes smiled as well. It had to be contagious, for when Snape…Severus turned to him to hand him a plate, he also began to smile, his expression almost serene.

They ate in front of the fire, not speaking. It wasn't necessary, Harry thought with a yawn; they were comfortably settled in their armchairs, basking in the warmth, and after this long day, they savored the pleasure of simply feeling good.

Well, and in good company. Harry closed his eyes for an instant to engrave this moment in his memory. The crackling and warmth of the fire made him drowsy, little by little, and he didn't feel his chin fall to his chest, nor when the plate that was taken carefully from his hands.

He still had a slight smile on his lips when Severus took off his glasses, and he didn't even awaken when the Potions master took him in his arms for the second time that day, and carried him to his room.

His room, yes, thought Severus as he pulled the curtains. Hopefully it wouldn't remain an empty shell, a vague souvenir of his stay, after the boy returned to Hogwarts.

Pulling up the coverlets, Snape idly moved a strand of hair from the boy's forehead. It seemed to him that the boy had pressed his forehand into his hand a bit; but he himself was exhausted just now. Placing a few potions on the bedside table, he left with soft steps.

"Good night, Harry," he murmured.

And he gently closed the door on the boy who was still smiling.

* * *

A lot of thanks to my wonderful translator, the famous Raewhit !

There will be a lot more about this manor in the future, as you can guess. A whole lot more. Harry will soon be back at Horgwarts, but he has first to learn a few things, and well, to get himself together! Will it be cereals or thuna for breakfast? ;-)


	26. Chapter 26 End Summer's Dream

**

* * *

**

Chapter Twenty-six: End Summer's Dream

_The sun was shining, and a golden streak in the sky suddenly attracted his attention. The Snitch! Bent over the handle of his broom, he accelerated to the Firebolt's maximum speed; he could feel the wind in his hair and hear the roar from the stands as the Seeker of the opposite team tried to catch up to him. But it was too late; Harry was already reaching out a hand to capture the Snitch, his fingers closing around the precious object. Letting loose a shout of triumph, Harry raised his fist to the sky, before being joined by the rest of the ecstatic team._

_Ron was laughing, his face red from shouting, and Ginny grabbed Harry around the neck, almost making him fall from his broom. The twins were there too, pounding him hard on the back. He could see Dumbledore and McGonagall in the grandstand, clapping enthusiastically. They'd just won back the Quidditch Cup!_

_The Gryffindors were exultant…but not only them; in the staff grandstand, Harry would see Snape, who'd stood up suddenly to salute his victory, and was applauding—certainly with more restraint, but with as much enthusiasm as the others, his eyes seeking out Harry's._

_'Well-played,' Harry could read in them. Never had victory been so sweet; when had he ever had a parent there to congratulate him after a match? He returned the professor's smile and was ready to join him, when he saw Snape's face tense in fright. His hand moved to grip his left forearm, just over the Dark Mark. And under Harry's horrified eyes, Snape slowly began to fade away, his features twisting, his cry muffled by the noise of the crowd._

_Harry wanted to run to him, but he couldn't extricate himself from the crush of his teammates. And no one seemed to notice that Snape had just disappeared! But everything suddenly became very calm, he observed, or rather very silent. The sky had suddenly changed to orange, and the people in the grandstands were immobile. He turned to look for Ron, and encountered his empty eyes, his much too pale face, just like everyone else around him. No, they weren't pale, they were dead, he realized in horror as he grabbed at Ginny's lifeless head, which had rolled onto his shoulder. Their haunted faces were turned toward him, but their eyes were slowly sinking into their sockets, while their cheeks caved in, their bodies slumping like rag dolls._

_Snape, he had to find Snape—he'd know what to do! He couldn't let them die! He was at Hogwarts, bloody hell! But that wasn't entirely true, he realized; he was simply in the middle of a field of smoking ruins that had been Hogwarts…and bodies everywhere._

_Snape, Severus, he had to come back, he would know… In front of him, from behind a curtain of smoke, a figure slowly came forward. He knew it well, he'd so often seen him in his dreams…._

_"Dad, please, I need help, help me to find him!"_

_"It'll be all right, Harry."_

_He was having difficulty coming closer, as if he were walking through thick mud._

_"Dad, help me!"_

_He couldn't make out his features, but the figure was so comforting that he had no doubt as to its identity._

"Harry, everything's all right, you're safe."

The gentle voice never failed to calm him, and he felt his body relax. The hand resting on his forehead was just as familiar, and Harry felt the nightmare lose its hold on him. With a deep breath, he half-opened his eyes.

Snape. He was at the Manor. Safe, yes, and not all alone.

Before he had time to thank the wizard, he fell back to sleep, a smile on his lips, his forehead pressed against the welcoming shoulder.

***

The first sensation that accosted him upon awakening was the familiar odor—a mixture of spices, the cloth of sheets, and gentle breathing. A comforting smell that was without a doubt tied to the Potions master.

Harry finally decided to open his eyes, and suddenly forgot to breathe: Merlin, he'd fallen asleep in Snape's arms!

Once again, he didn't remember having climbed the stairs to go to bed, and bloody hell, it was already embarrassing, to think that the professor had carried him there.

Wait a second. Embarrassing? As he thought of it…yes, a little. All the same, he was sixteen, he was a good dozen years past the age of being carried to bed! Not that anyone had ever carried him to bed, obviously, but now that he thought of it, there was nothing in any way appealing about being carried to a cupboard either…

On the other hand, the idea that Snape had done it…was a good one. Pleasant, like a cup of hot chocolate by the fire in winter.

As for falling asleep with Snape at his side…the professor was half-seated on the bed, with an arm around his shoulders, as if he'd comforted him in the middle of a nightmare.

Oh. The nightmare. Severus had probably come to him then, just like he'd most likely done on all those other nights. He'd never before stayed until morning, though.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned slightly to try and see the Potions master's face without awakening him. One look at his drawn features was enough for Harry to understand. Snape had simply fallen asleep, exhausted, and hadn't had the chance to make it to his own room.

He seemed almost vulnerable this way, without his usual mask of impassivity. Less of a spy, and more of a wizard…but the spy didn't delay taking the upper hand again. Feeling himself being watched, Severus abruptly opened his eyes, meeting the green ones that haunted his dreams.

"Sleep well?" he asked with the most natural nonchalance he could muster. What the devil was he doing in Harry's room? Merlin, he must've fallen asleep when he'd come to comfort the boy in the middle of the night… A night's sleep spent partially seated on a bed, holding a teenager in his arms, was probably the last thing he needed, but at the very least, Harry seemed rested. Hopefully the teenager wouldn't be too embarrassed by the situation.

"I...I think so, yes," the boy replied, without making any attempt to move. Severus held back a smile. No, Harry didn't appear to have any objections about being comforted. After all, he'd spent more than one night sleeping in his lap as a cat, without taking into account all the times Severus had carried him in his arms. But all the same…

"You had a nightmare last night," he felt obligated to explain. "I'm afraid I dozed off a bit after awakening you…"

"Dozed off a bit?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of the Potions master.

"Dismally collapsed," Snape conceded with a slight smile.

The boy laughed soundlessly, but looked at him with a guilty expression. "I'm sorry I disturbed you. I forgot to cast a Silencing Charm on my room last night."

The professor shook his head. "Harry…you don't have to do that. It's unnecessary and uncalled for. I have my own alarms on this room, which awaken me each time your sleep becomes agitated."

The boy's eyes widened. "Why?"

Snape looked down at him indulgently. "So you don't face your nightmares alone," he answered.

"Why?" the boy repeated, dumbfounded.

_Because that's what parents do,_ Snape would've liked to reply…but no, this wasn't the moment. Not yet.

"So that they'll stop. I'd like you to feel safe here; I'm here to watch over you, Harry, day and night.

"But I'm not really in danger," the boy protested. "You don't need…you should rest, that's really more important, Professor. I've always had nightmares, they're not important."

"Very much to the contrary," Snape said as he stretched slightly.

Realizing that he was still leaning against the professor, Harry sat up quickly as he blushed.

"It's important that you sleep well, so you can regain your strength. A good breakfast won't hurt either, if you feel up to it," Snape suggested.

Harry jumped from the bed. "I'll take care of that. Take your time, I'll take care of everything!"

Severus grimaced as he took his turn to get up. A long hot shower certainly wouldn't do any harm… "Perfect, nothing like being waited on to start the day right. You can go check in the laboratory, in case Albus has sent food, and start by taking your potions," he said with a wave toward the nightstand.

The boy obeyed, his movements quick and nimble. At least he'd been able to get a good night's sleep, Severus thought. As for himself, he couldn't say as much; his stiff muscles creaked like an old door, and he felt as if his vertebra were knocking together with each and every step he took.

Merlin, he wasn't even forty. Hiding his stiff walk the best he could, he made as dignified an exit as possible. "Try not to burn anything. I'll be back in a quarter of an hour."

The boy smiled happily, and Severus caught himself feeling more lighthearted. Harry really had a frightening ability to make him smile, and render dramatic situations almost normal…

He was going to have to be careful after their return to Hogwarts; it was a matter of his reputation at stake…

A shower and about ten potions later, Severus felt less achy, and ready to face a new day. Harry was bustling about in the dining room, obviously determined to impress him when he'd appear.

"A fruit salad?" Severus asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"It's full of vitamins," the boy explained enthusiastically. "Dumbledore sent a basketful of fruits and vegetables; there's enough to last a week!"

"I'll don't think we'll need that much time," Snape said as he sat.

"Oh." The boy seemed almost disappointed.

"Later we'll work on your transformations. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Much better. It did me good to sleep, even if that nightmare was really scary."

"What did you dream, Harry, if that's not too indiscreet?" Snape asked.

The boy hesitated for an instant. "Can Voldemort summon you? I mean, through the Mark, he can't force you to go?"

"No," Snape confirmed. "He can only send a signal. I must place my hand on the Mark and desire to respond for it to work, much the same as a Portkey."

Harry nodded. "That's what it seemed like. But dreams don't always make sense…"

"Is that what you dreamt, Harry?" Snape asked gently. "About Voldemort summoning me?"

"More or less. At the beginning, it was a simple Quidditch match; I'd just caught the Snitch, Gryffindor had won the Cup, and everything was really perfect. But when I looked in your direction, I saw you holding your arm, and then you disappeared." He shuddered.

"And afterward?"

"Afterward…everything changed. It wasn't the same place anymore, it was all in ruins, and everyone was dead. I wanted to save them, but I didn't know how. I was hoping you could do something, so I was looking for you…"

…and his father had come to his rescue. But that really wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to tell Snape…not now that they were getting on so well. The memory of James could only come between them.

Harry swallowed hard. "And that's the moment when I woke up."

"I see," Snape said thoughtfully. "It would seem that you're still very anxious over all that's happened. That's entirely normal, and that's why I don't want you to cast a Silencing Charm on your room, Harry. The nightmares will come to an end much sooner if you don't let them go too far."

"And if someone reassures me when I wake up," the boy agreed. "Thanks, Professor. Really."

Snape thought about reminding Harry to call him by his first name, but it clearly wasn't the moment.

"No one's ever done that before, at least that I can remember," Harry went on, looking him straight in the eye, even if his cheeks were slightly flushed. Severus could only be gratified by his effort. "Maybe that's why I still have them."

The professor gravely nodded his head. "Nightmares are more destructive than they seem. It's important for you to face them as calmly as possible. Never hesitate to talk to me about them, and for my part, I promise to be there when you awaken, whenever possible."

At the troubled look the boy gave him, Severus knew that his words had disturbed him, but he didn't give him time to dwell on them. "Excellent meal," he began. "Which brings us to a suggestion I made several weeks ago, concerning your Potions marks."

He could almost picture Shadow's ears perking up at his words. "What would you think about helping me this morning with potions? That would allow me to evaluate your competency, and revise your mark."

"Really? I mean, sure, but is that still possible?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Excellent question, Potter. Let's think about that. Will Dumbledore agree to let me raise the Boy Who Lived's mark at the last minute? Hmmm, surely deserves some reflection. At least ten seconds, in any case, the time it takes to offer me a sherbet lemon," the professor quipped ironically.

Harry couldn't help but laugh as he imagined the scene. How could life be so totally dramatic one day, then so lighthearted the next?

Snape, he decided, or rather, Severus. He had to get used to that…or was it just the fact that someone was taking care of him—not only his health and wellbeing, but also his future?

Whatever, it was definitely thanks to the Potions master, who was leading him down to the laboratory, after having cleaned and put away the dishes with an expert flick of his wand.

Preparing a potion was definitely easier when one wasn't on their guard, Harry decided after several hours of work. The peaceful atmosphere in the dungeons helped him to concentrate, and Snape's instructions, stripped of his sarcasm and menacing tone, were completely clear and understandable.

When Severus finally leant in over his cauldron and nodded his head, saying, "Good work," Harry felt a heavier weight than he would've imagined leave his shoulders.

"Enough to raise my mark?" he asked eagerly.

Snape lifted an ironic eyebrow. "Exceeds Expectation, shall we say?"

Harry felt his heart pound. "Thanks, Professor. Severus."

At these words, he saw the ends of Snape's mouth lift slightly. "This potion is correct, but I'll expect nothing less in my class this year, understood?"

"Understood. And same for the cooking," Harry added.

"You do realize that constitutes contributing to the corruption of a professor?" Snape groaned as he poured the potion into a phial.

"And that's before you're tasted my chocolate soufflé," the boy said, upping the ante.

"Bad choice, Potter, I've never been fond of sweets."

"Oh…I suppose I should've guessed. Let me see…liqueurs?"

"I don't approve of strong drink, nor of their use in cooking," Snape replied.

"You really have a character flaw there!" Harry protested, who would've given anything for some Chocolate Frogs. "Ice cream? No, that's sugared….spices? Asian dishes?"

"I have a weakness for coffee," Severus finally confessed reluctantly.

"Coffee. Drinkable?"

"In all its forms, actually," Snape muttered as he put away the last phials.

"That doesn't leave many possibilities," Harry said thoughtfully. "Coffee ice cream…white coffee, cream with coffee, coffee pudding…"

"Coffee poisoning?" the Potions master suggested. "Good, that's enough for this morning. I'd like to check out the park before starting training exercises there. Perhaps a good chance for you to change and go get your broom. You might have need of it."

"I'm going to fly?" Harry asked enthusiastically as he took off for the stairway. "Oh, is there anything else I'll need?"

"Perhaps a good shower," Snape said, amused. "You don't realize it in your human form, but potions vapors adhere to skin and hair, and a simple Tergeo isn't enough to get rid of them. You'll be much more sensitive to them in your cat form."

"Oh," Harry said as he ran a hand through his hair. "That explains why…."

He stopped, blushing furiously. It probably wasn't the time to make a comment about Snape's hair, when the man was in such a good mood…

But the Potions master laughed soundlessly. "Hurry and go up, before I decide to experiment with a new shampoo formula, rather than taking my cat out for a walk."

Harry didn't wait to be told twice, then took the stairs four at a time.

Flying! He was going to fly! Just like in his dream, he realized. The idea dampened his enthusiasm slightly. Was that why Snape had asked him to bring his broom? The professor wanted to help him, of course, but his methods were sometimes a bit harsh.

Rummaging in his trunk, he took out the broom that'd out of necessity been shrunken for travel. What mattered was that he trusted Snape, and the prospect of flying erased all of his fears.

He was about to shut the trunk again, when he noticed the cask on the table. Snape had probably set it there the evening before. He stroked the wood with the palm of his hand, hesitant to open it. No, not now; he'd look at it this evening, when he'd be able to take his time. But he had to go back to Hogwarts in two days…

He could take the box with him, of course; Severus had made it clear that it was his, but it seemed to him that the cask belonged in this place. And it seemed especially at home in this room…his room.

Because that's truly what Snape had called it, wasn't it? His room_. His room._ He glanced around it, a slight smile on his face. It wasn't large, but certainly of a suitable size, moderately but adequately furnished. And he could decorate it as he pleased, if he decided to come back…

His very first room, he thought, because the one the Dursleys had finally given him had never really stopped being Dudley's. And the bars on the windows hadn't been all that friendly…

He hadn't left anything there; the Dursleys would've burned it. But here? He could not only leave the box and be sure of finding it again, but all that he wouldn't need during the year as well! His trunk was so loaded down with old things that it barely closed.

But when? Harry's face darkened. Was he really coming back here? Snape truly seemed to want him to, but there was nothing to say that he still wouldn't change his mind about Harry. After all, he'd already done that before. Just a few weeks ago, the professor would've probably thrown him out of the Manor, head first.

No, it was best to take advantage of the present moment and not count on anything further. It'd only be a bigger disappointment, and Snape had already done so much for him. Harry certainly didn't have the right to be upset with him if he turned away again.

Harry went to the window and pushed the curtain aside. At the edge of the woods, he could see the dark silhouette of the Potions master, wand in hand, as he methodically paced in an inspection of the park.

He couldn't help but smile. Yes, he was going to make the best of these days while he could, and do all he could not to alienate Snape when they returned to Hogwarts.

Suddenly in a hurry to join the professor, he opened the window and slipped outside, his broom in his hand.

It felt good to run, and it was even better to see Snape turn a calm face toward him.

"Do you feel up to a training session? No aching, pain in your bones, or dizziness?" he asked as he examined the boy with his expert eye.

"In top form," Harry confirmed, a bit out of breath from his run. He really needed to get back in shape before time for Quidditch matches.

"The park seems secure, the wards are fully in place. I'd prefer, however, if you don't go too far, especially in the air. Don't fly higher than the Manor roof. Content yourself with sticking to the grass as well, and don't venture into the woods. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mother," said the boy with a grimace. A slight silence passed between them, then was quickly broken.

"Do you really want me to fly? Oh, I've not brought my broom back to size; I thought it'd be best if I didn't do any more magic than necessary, in case, you know, the Ministry decree…

"No longer applies to you," Snape answered. "After all that's happened this summer, it was impossible to enforce it. Each of your Animagus transformations is an act of magic, you realize."

Harry paled considerably. "Am I going to be in trouble?"

Snape sighed. "No, not this time. It would appear that the Ministry has agreed to look the other way on this decree so far as you're concerned, in even-numbered years."

Harry looked at him blankly.

"Dumbledore has arranged for them to forget about you this summer, by reason of exceptional circumstances," he translated. "But be that as it may, today is the start of term, and so the decree no longer applies. You have no worries there."

"But I've not gone back to Hogwarts," the boy objected. "Does the Ministry know that as well?"

"Don't forget that Dumbledore is now your legal guardian," Snape said softly.

Harry shuddered at the idea.

"Does that present a problem?" the professor hastened to ask him.

"I don't know…" Harry confessed. "It's rather ungrateful on my part, I suppose, but I don't like the idea. I know Dumbledore was trying to protect me from the beginning, but…I don't really know. I suppose it makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Nothing surprising about that," Snape agreed. "You didn't have any say in this change in guardianship, and after what happened this summer, your reaction is completely understandable. Keep in mind that the Headmaster has promised not to abuse his new role in order to interfere any more in your life than you want, Harry. I hope you don't hold what you suffered at Malfoy's hands against him?"

Harry shook his head. "No, of course I don't. But in a way, that's what's making things so unpleasant. On one hand, Dumbledore will keep his distance, and it's rather good like that. On the other…that doesn't give me any more of a chance of having a family than being kept by the Dursleys did."

The last sentence had slipped from his lips so quickly that he wasn't entirely sure of having said it. But seeing the troubled look that Snape gave him, there was no doubt… The Potions master opened his mouth to say something, before closing it again, then opened it once more.

It would appear that Harry's declaration had thrown him off balance. "Is that important to you, Harry?" he asked all of a sudden.

The boy shrugged. He wasn't six years old anymore, and with the war on the horizon, it certainly wasn't the time to play the unhappy orphan.

"Not really. I've never had one anyway. Can I go fly, Professor?"

Snape studied him for a long moment, before nodding his head. "Stay within the limits I set for you. Take to the sky, let off as much steam as you need to. Clear your mind. After that, I'd like you to do some relaxation exercises. I'll stay here to watch; try to remain within my line of sight."

With a quick motion of his wand, he brought the broom back to its original size, then nodded at the boy, who took off precipitously.

A bit too much for Snape's liking… This wasn't the time for him to break his neck, by Merlin; he'd not yet fully recovered from his recent wounds, and there he was, performing aerobatics. Wand in his fist, Severus watched the boy nervously, ready to rescue him from a free-fall. Harry'd done well to accuse him of acting like…like a mother. Oh, bloody hell.

He'd been left speechless by the boy's confession about wanting a family. That was one thing he'd been wrong about after all. Harry truly needed someone. But more than just someone, he wanted what every child needed—a family. And what could Snape offer him in that regard? Surely not his paltry experience, nor those fatherly qualities he'd never possessed.

He could take care of him, yes, but Harry needed much more than that. Much more than he could offer him. Once again, there was a tugging at his heartstrings. Regret? Bitterness? Probably one of these sentiments that he'd never tried to suss out, which had come to beset him when he'd let a cat and a boy enter into his life.

He'd have to deal with it. Yes, he'd face what was to come in due time. And whatever happened, he'd do his best for Harry, and to hell with the rest. He'd done his best for Lily, after all.

When Harry finally landed, he was pink and out of breath, but wearing a big smile. "I've really missed that!" he said as he stretched. "I'm anxious to get back into the matches, if Dumbledore lifts the ban on me, of course."

"I doubt that'll be a problem," Snape replied. "Do you feel ready for a bit of meditation?"

Harry nodded, and they began to walk toward the clearing where they'd practiced the exercises before.

"Professor, I was thinking of Sirius' house again. Professor Dumbledore wrote to tell me I'd inherited, but I don't know what I should do with it. Does that create a problem with the Fidelius?"

"No, not at all. Albus is the Secret-Keeper, so the Order members will always be able to go there. On the other hand, the wards and the house-elves will recognize you as their new owner."

"Kreacher? Certainly not! At least…does that give me the right to cut off his head and stick it up on the wall?" the boy grumbled.

"Certainly," Severus said calmly. "As well as torturing him to death or ordering him to kill himself."

He saw Harry shiver despite the heat.

"But I'd advise you to send him to Hogwarts to work in the kitchens instead."

"Yeah, I suppose," the boy murmured. "I don't want the house either. I could maybe give it to Dumbledore; that'd be fairly simple."

"It was your godfather's house, Harry. It seems to me that the two of you got on rather well?" Snape asked gently.

"Sirius hated that place. He was always unhappy there, you know that."

A moment of silence lengthened between them at the memory of the many arguments that the two wizards had had at Order headquarters.

"Wait a while before making a decision," Snape finally advised. "Nothing obliges you to go there, and you'll be happy to have it later on, perhaps. Set it to the side, focus on what's important right now.

Harry nodded. It was true—the house could wait, but Sirius…Sirius was important. He had far too many questions to resolve, so far as his godfather was concerned. Nothing that he could ask Snape, though.

Starting with what Sirius would've thought of Harry's new relationship with his worst enemy. Oh, Merlin. He probably would've never forgiven him.

Without thinking, he looked up at the professor walking at by his side, and met his dark, calm eyes.

"Don't dwell on it too much, Harry. Especially if there's nothing you can do about it."

And as strange as that seemed, Harry realized as he nodded that he could to that. It was beautiful weather, Snape was with him, and he'd just finished flying. He'd have time to think about all of that later. Or if possible, not to think of it at all…

Emptying his mind to meditate was easier than he would've thought. The transformation exercise, on the other hand…

"Ready, Harry?" Snape asked when Harry'd stood again after the meditation exercise.

"I hope so. Shadow, then?" the boy asked nervously.

"Yes, but this time try to keep your mind on something that isn't part of your cat life. You think you can do that?"

Think of Snape, but a different Snape…the one who shouted at him at Hogwarts, perhaps. No, that wouldn't work. Perhaps simply the one who came to comfort him in the middle of the night.

Focusing on an image of the bedchamber, Harry put all his will into taking his cat form. An instant afterward, he was standing on four paws, facing Snape, slightly confused.

Snape. The nightmare. The bedchamber. Pictures of the sweater and the fireplace flitted through his mind, but he pushed them away. There was no way he was mistaking himself for a cat this time!

When he looked up at Snape again, he was just about certain of having mastered his form and its personality, but he wasn't any less grateful to the professor for his neutral and attentive expression.

The cat let out a short meow as it sat.

"Harry?' the Potions master tried.

Another meow answered him, and Snape felt relief spread through him. It wasn't totally a lost cause, after all.

"Can you transform back again?" he asked the cat.

For a long moment, the cat sat there, looking at him, his green eyes focused on Snape's own. He could almost see the thoughts tangling in the cat's head. Finally, the cat was replaced by a frowning teenage, obviously upset.

"The return seemed to take longer this time," Snape commented.

"Yeah," the boy admitted. "It was harder to find the mechanism to make it work the other direction. It wasn't too difficult, but I'm afraid it'd be more complicated if I transform involuntarily. It took me a moment to get ready and get my thoughts straight after changing form."

"It's bothersome, but all the same encouraging. Take some time to relax, and we'll begin again, this time for a litter longer. Were you completely aware of who you were?" the professor asked.

"At the end, yes. But I have the impression that Shadow's only waiting to push to the front, if I give him the chance."

"No fish at meals, then," Snape said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "And stop disassociating your two forms, Harry. The way you see things as a cat is no less a part of you. The expectations, desires and fears that you experience as Shadow are your own as well. Accept that."

But what did Shadow really want? the boy wondered. Fish, of course. The peacefulness of the dungeons, the warmth of the fire, Severus' presence. A home…someone…peace.

But what Shadow managed to achieve so easily, Harry couldn't, or at least he couldn't resolve to. Snape had told him that he'd always be there, but until when? He'd offered him a place to stay, but he could just as well move away at any moment, whatever he said.

As for peace…like all the rest of it, he should earn it.

Yes, he wanted the same thing as Shadow. But the cat hadn't had to struggle to have it, and that would make all the difference.

He confusedly felt his body slip into a more comfortable skin, but before he was able to finish the transformation, a shout attracted his attention.

"Harry!"

He jumped, staggering on his feet, and looked at the Potions master.

"Harry, are you all right?"

His vision blurry, he stared at the professor's tense face. "I think so. Just a moment of…fuzziness," he finally replied.

"To say the least…is there something you'd like to talk about?"

Snape's voice was sincere, his eyes tinged with worry. And just because of this little incident… Yes, it was worth being Harry, and not Shadow.

He shook his head. "No, not for now anyway. It's still a bit confused at times. I still need to train, I think."

"Go and walk a bit. I'll stay here," Snape told him. "My offer stands at any time, Harry. You need to talk. It's important."

As the boy walked away, Severus, in one of those rare moments in life, did something he'd neither foreseen, nor calculated, and even less, anticipated.

"Harry?" he repeated. The boy turned back, a questioning look on his face.

"You _are_ important," Snape said, his voice neutral, but his eyes intense.

For an instant, he saw a streak of pain pass through the boy's eyes, and he wondered if he'd made a mistake. Since when had spontaneity been a worthwhile solution, by Merlin?

Then Harry smiled weakly, but something in his expression made him seem younger, and Severus felt strangely happy at the sight. With a gesture of his head, he signaled for him to go on, and the boy took off again, he steps a little uncertain.

The afternoon passed more quickly than they would've thought.

When suppertime arrived, Harry felt exhausted and mildly anxious. On the whole, his transformations had turned out well, and Snape's exercises had proved helpful, but if the same thing happened in different circumstances? Harry wasn't certain of the outcome.

"Are you sure Ron and Hermione will be able to come?" he asked as they tucked in to the roast Harry'd carefully prepared with his own hands.

"Everything's arranged; you have nothing to worry about. They'll wait for you in my office. If there's the slightest problem, I won't be long."

"I'm returning directly to the Manor, I know," Harry said. "I realize I don't have any reason to worry, but the idea of going back to Hogwarts is a bit…strange."

"Everything will turn out fine. You just need to pace yourself," Snape reassured him. "And in any case, it's only a matter of an hour or two, and we'll be back at the Manor. You're still not ready to start classes again, and I'm aware of that."

"Honestly, Professor…I feel good," the boy admitted. "I really don't want to, but I'm ready to go back to Hogwarts. It's just cowardice."

"Have you ever felt apprehensive at the idea of going back to school before?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, then you're not ready," Snape concluded. "The fact that you're on your feet and can manage to control your transformations doesn't mean that everything's fine. After what's happened this summer, no one would consider you a coward, Harry."

"But they don't really know all that's happened, isn't that right?"

"Since when has what others think become so important to you?" the Potions master retorted.

"But it always has! I don't have the right to make a mistake, no right to disappoint them, ever since I set foot in Hogwarts. You're in a position to know it very well. I hate that…but I can't ignore it."

Snape sat silently for a moment, thoughtful. "In a sense, I understand, and I can respect that. I suppose it's far from the arrogance I so long attributed to you."

Harry couldn't' help but shoot him a dark look.

"I suppose one must acknowledge his mistakes from time to tome. And that was one of them, an extremely crude one. I allowed my judgment to be clouded by prejudices that didn't concern you. For a spy, that's a grave shortcoming."

Harry looked away and shrugged, ill-at-ease. "You've already apologized, so that's not necessary. Everyone does the same thing anyway."

Snape's lips thinned. "All the more reason not to pay attention to what others think, Harry. It's the best way of allowing yourself to be thrown off-balance."

But clearly, if wasn't as if the boy had ever had a stable life, or a positive opinion of himself. No one had taken the trouble to give him one either, and in view of his family's behavior, this fragility in the face of what others thought was, all in all, entirely natural.

Severus sighed. He had a long way to go if he wanted to help the boy effectively.

"It's easy for you to say—everyone respects you," Harry said at last.

"Respects me? The infamous professor, ex-Death Eater, the Potions master with the greasy hair? They respect my talents, at most. But more commonly, they fear me, which doesn't have much to do with respect," Snape replied.

"That's not true! The Slytherins thing you're a god…"

A bitter snigger answered him. "I'll be curious to see how my dear Slytherins welcome their god after his fall from darkness. Their respect, such as it is, is but a reflection of my position with Voldemort. A goodly number of my students are children of Death Eaters, or sympathizers, Harry. I think you'll find their notion of respect for me strikingly changed this year."

The boy swallowed with difficulty. "I'm sorry. I hadn't thought… That'll turn out rather hard, hmm?"

Snape gave him a small, sly smile. "Probably. But after having spent the summer with a Gryffindor, I suppose I'm ready to face anything."

"Even what other people think," Harry said.

"Make no mistake. I'd have never been drawn to the Death Eaters if the opinion of others hadn't mattered to me. I'd have never strayed from them, either, if that of your mother hadn't driven me."

"But you left them in the end," the boy pointed out.

Severus almost had to smile. Here was Harry Potter, trying to restore his self-esteem. Merlin, the world was tilting precariously on its axis. "What others think of you influences you a great deal, Harry. But your choices remain your own. Have you had enough to eat?'

The boy looked blankly at his plate, as if he was having trouble extricating himself from his thoughts. "Yeah, I wasn't all that hungry anyway. Do you think the Sorting Ceremony's over?"

"Most likely," Snape agreed. "Ready to forge into the lion's den?"

Harry smiled. "The snake pit's more like it."

"Hmmm. From the moment we leave until we return, no transformations, is that understood? Whatever you have to say to Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger will have to wait," Snape continued.

"A cat and nothing but a cat. Understood. And if I have something urgent I have to let them know, I'll wait until you come back."

"You'll wait in any case until you're back at the Manor, Harry. It's not simply a matter of a disguise. I'd prefer you not to have to test your Occlumency abilities right away."

The boy swallowed hard. "Do you think Voldemort could try to attack me at Hogwarts?"

"Voldemort, probably not. He's most likely still too weak. But he's not the only one who knows how to use Legilimency, and many Death Eaters would pay dearly to be able to siphon information from you."

"But at Hogwarts? Do you really think they could reach me there?"

"I don't' know," Snape said with a certain measure of irritation. "It's simply unnecessary to take the risk. It's the start of term, the best day to attempt such a thing."

"No one will know that I'm there," the boy retorted.

"No one will know that _you're not there!_ Your absence wasn't reported in the _Prophet, _Harry. As far as everyone knows, you're at this very moment somewhere in Hogwarts, well-hidden. If you're not sure you can control yourself, then perhaps it'd be best for you to stay here."

"No," Harry capitulated, his spirits dampened. "I'm sure I can control myself; I'm just afraid of not doing it if…but it'll be fine. And if I lose control, I'll just have to come back to the Manor straight off."

Snape scrutinized him for a long moment, as if searching for something in his eyes. Harry didn't try to hide himself. Finally, the professor nodded and threw a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace. "Severus Snape's office, Hogwarts."

His head disappeared into the flames, then reappeared a few moments later. "Everything seems normal. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley are waiting for you on the other side, as well as the Headmaster. Do you feel ready?" he asked for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

The boy smiled, and an instant afterward, Snape was facing a black cat with glossy fur, its green eyes sparkling as it looked at him.

This time, they'd got it right.

With a jerk of his head, he signaled for Harry to join him, and the cat gathered itself for a precise jump to his left shoulder.

Snape caught himself finding the situation strikingly natural, and as he enunciated his destination and stepped into the fireplace, he thought that it probably wasn't going to be long before he was known as 'the professor with a cat.'

***

Harry had always despised traveling by Floo powder, and Shadow didn't think any less. But arriving at Hogwarts on Snape's shoulder was largely worth the sacrifice, if only for the shocked expressions on Ron's, Hermione's and Dumbledore's faces when they made their appearance.

Hermione let out a gasp of surprise, Ron's eyes grew large, and Dumbledore rapidly blinked twice, before resuming his imperturbable façade.

By the tension in the Potions master's shoulders, Shadow could tell that the man was at least as satisfied by their entrance as he was.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," he said with a curt nod.

Regaining their wits, the two teenagers managed to speak. "Good evening, Professor."

"Might I entrust my cat to you while I am gone?" the professor asked courteously.

If Harry hadn't been in his Animagus form, he would've burst into laughter at the sight of his two friends, their mouths hanging open, watching Snape as if he'd suddenly grown another head.

Hermione was the first to take hold of herself. "Of course, Professor. We'll take good care of…"

She glanced at him, amused, with a question in her eyes.

"Shadow. His name is Shadow," Snape replied.

Shadow jumped to the floor at last, and went to join the two teenagers who seemed to be struggling to fit suitable expressions on their faces.

"Albus, I presume the Slytherins are waiting for me?" the Potions master asked.

"In your common room, Severus. Would you like me to go with you?"

Snape sniggered. "That won't be necessary. Shadow?"

The cat answered him with a blink of his eyes. Yes, everything would be fine. All his nervousness had gone when he'd found his two friends there, and even the Headmaster's presence didn't spoil the joy of being here at Hogwarts again with them.

With one last look at the cat, the Head of Slytherin strode purposefully from his office.

The door had hardly shut behind him when Ron and Hermione let out sighs of relief, bending down to get a better look at him.

"Are you all right…Shadow? With all that's happened, we weren't sure we'd see you today, since…."

Suddenly remembering the discreet presence of the Headmaster, Hermione stopped, annoyed.

"Ah well," Dumbledore said happily. "I believe the two of you have things well in hand. Don't forget what we talked about, and take care not to move or break anything in the professor's office. I could be mistaken, but I doubt he'd blame his cat!"

They all smiled as they looked at Shadow, who was nonchalantly licking his nose.

Then directly addressing the cat, the Headmaster said seriously, "It's a relief and a pleasure to have you back again and in good health, Shadow. I'm happy to see that you and your new master are getting on so well."

The little mischievous glint in his eyes was impossible to miss, but Harry appreciated the caution all the same. Was the Headmaster trying to tell him he fully intended to keep his word, and respect Snape's authority over Harry Potter?

But did Harry himself acknowledge it?

Shadow shook his head, and let out a short meow for the old wizard.

Dumbledore smiled at him kindly, before turning to the two teenagers standing impatiently at his side.

"I'll leave you to it. Try not to…oh, well, go beyond the limits. I trust you, do I not? Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Shadow, welcome back to Hogwarts!"

The two youngsters told him goodbye, waiting in silence for the door to close again, leaving them alone with a very clearly excited black cat.

He jumped to a chair in a single leap, then let out a series of short meows that pulled a smiled from Ron and Hermione.

"Sorry you can't talk, mate," the redhead said. "But bloody hell, with all you have to tell us, believe me, you're not the most frustrated one here!"

"Har…Shadow, are you doing all right?" Hermione asked, barely correcting herself in time.

Merlin, did everyone feel obligated to ask him that question? Did he seem to be in agony? He let out a commanding meow, and the girl smiled.

"Yes, Professor Snape seems to be taking good care of you…"

"Er…Shadow, then?" Ron said goofily. "I'd have expected something a bit more like Veritaserum, Beelzebub, or let's say…Salazar!"

The cat shot him a scornful look.

"Oh, but for sure, Shadow is completely…cute, yeah, that's the word I was looking for!"

The boy broke out into wild laughter, while Hermione looked on, somewhat fondly and half-annoyed.

"Forgive him, Shadow," she told the cat. "He doesn't know how to act…boys, you know."

Ron only laughed harder, managing to miss knocking over a bottle on shelf with his back.

"That's enough, Ron!" Hermione decided to finally grumble. "It's certainly not funny to…er…Shadow," she finished pitifully.

"Oh, you'll have to forgive us!" she continued, confused. "We've been very worried about you, all these stories, we didn't know whether to believe them or not…it's just nerves coming out; it's so good to see you, safe and sound and…in good company."

The cat blinked to tell her that he understood, and then spun around once. Were they determined to tell him what'd happened while he'd been gone?

Ron, who'd finally regained a bit of self-control, wiped a tear away and took his turn to come close. "In very…good company," he said with one last hiccough. "Oh Merlin, I can't wait for all the details…oh bloody hell, I know I shouldn't laugh, mate, I'm sorry, don't take it the wrong way. Hermione's right, we've been a bit tense lately…um." He shot him a sheepish look. "There're plenty of things to tell you, but seeing how you can't talk back…I think you'd really prefer if we wait. And believe me, it'll be worth it!"

Exasperated, Shadow spat. Were they trying to kill him with the suspense? News, he wanted news, stories without Voldemort, without stealing powers, without sacrifice…just Fred and George's fireworks, and Ginny's latest news. Was that too much to ask?

"It won't be long, you know," Hermione said with a conciliatory gesture. "I suppose that you'll be coming back to Hogwarts soon…with Professor Snape?"

Shadow nodded.

"The least we can say is that your absence at the meal was noticed," Ron said. "The Slytherins didn't hear even half of the Sorting Hat's speech, or Dumbledore's either. Too busy whispering amongst themselves after seeing that Snape wasn't there for the Ceremony. A first for him."

"Harry's absence was noticed as well," Hermione told him casually. "And not only by the Slytherins. Dumbledore explained that Professor Snape would be back soon, but he didn't say a word about Harry. Many people think they're in hiding together."

Harry understood the necessity of not attracting attention to his true identity, really. But was this act that Dumbledore and Snape insisted upon really necessary? Merlin, anyone would've understood straight off, just by seeing them together…

But he didn't let any of his irritation show, and continued to listen to them talk about him in the third person.

"It's not known exactly what happened this summer, but plenty of rumors are circulating. Voldemort was severely wounded and in hiding, the Death Eaters were on the run…"

"But the most interesting," Ron elaborated, "is that there're a lot of empty chairs at the Slytherin table. Apparently, certain families have suddenly decided to send their children to Durmstrang!'

"And that would have something to do with the fact that Professor Snape betrayed Voldemort," Hermione finished.

Shadow started.

"Yes, everyone knows about that," Ron said simply. "What's not clear to everyone is his role before that… Well, the Slytherins seem rather unanimous on that question," he added. "And honestly, in Snape's place, I wouldn't have been in such a hurry to throw myself into the snake pit."

"Many people seemed to think he'd not dare come back," Hermione explained. "As for the Gryffindors…certain of them think he kidnapped or killed Harry Potter, or both. No one really seems to think that he could've saved him like the papers claim. Certain of them think that Harry's dead, and that Dumbledore's trying to hold back the news, or cover for Snape. I think they'll be more reassured, seeing him back safe and sound."

Ron had trouble stifling a laugh, and Harry knew he'd just been spared another joke on his cat status.

But before he could meow a retort, their attention was attracted by a noise in the corridor, and the two teenagers instinctively brandished their wands. Sounds of running, a frantic and panicked flight, several people trying to flee as shouting rang out in the dungeons. Out of pure and simple terror, Harry realized, feeling the fur on his back stand up on end.

The noises sounded muffled to them, but there was no doubt that something was happening, just fifty feet from the office. Ron and Hermione looked at each other hesitantly; someone was obviously in danger.

That was when the shouting began in earnest, and there was no longer any question of someone going to their rescue; these screams were definitely not human, and the number of them, as well as their ferocity, left little room for doubt: whatever the creatures were that were at this very moment running in the corridors, the two teenagers couldn't do anything against them.

All three of them exchanged panicked looks, their wands still pointed toward the door. An attack, the first day of term? It was impossible…but Snape had dreaded this, Harry recalled. His paranoia hadn't been so unfounded, in the end.

"Shadow, go back to the Manor, it's too risky!" Hermione said, without looking away from the door.

But she was interrupted by another shout, closer and definitely human this time. Terribly human, and terribly young… A shout of sharp pain, covered by a growl of triumph, as screams of all sorts seemed to fill the air. The teenagers looked nervously at each other; how many could there be? And especially, what?

The door was flung open full-force, and before they had time to think, Ron and Hermione had both cast a Petrificus that bounced against a shield thrown up in haste. Snape, out of breath, his black robes disheveled, looked for Shadow, before letting out a sigh of relief. With a flick of his wand, the heavy door was violently slammed shut, and the room's owner turned to quickly cast up wards.

Then, turning to the two teenagers and the cat in shock, he said, "Fifty points to Gryffindor for excellent reflexes. Granger, Weasley, read this!" he said tersely as he threw them a piece of paper, on which Ron and Hermione could read, 'Snape Manor,' in Dumbledore's fine and elegant handwriting.

"Hurry up," he said as he pushed them urgently toward the fireplace.

Blood-curdling screams echoed even closer, and a dull thud sounded against the door. The noise of a body being used as a battering ram.

Snape swore in a low voice, and threw a handful of powder into the grate. Then, taking Shadow into his arms, he called out, "Snape Manor! You two, go on! Merlin, what're you waiting for? A written invitation?"

With a jump, the two teenagers rushed into the green flames, immediately followed by the professor holding the cat as if his life depended on it.

And this was no doubt the case, Shadow thought, as they stepped into the peaceful laboratory at Snape Manor.

Ron and Hermione at the Manor…he'd expected anything but this. But that furious beast screaming in the dungeon corridors at Hogwarts?

Without delaying any longer, he retook his human form.

"Professor, what was that?" he pressed.

"An attack. I can't tell you more just now, but you're out of danger here. It was a huge mistake to make you come on the first day of term…but I'm out of time. Don't move from here, none of you, promise me!"

Ron and Hermione nodded distractedly, but Harry took care to look the professor in the eyes. "We're not going anywhere, I promise you. But please…do you have to go back there?"

For a brief moment, Snape's eyes softened, then he nodded. "I won't be long, Harry, the walls will protect you in case of an attack; do not go out for any reason, do you hear? Dumbledore or myself will come to get you. If no one's come within twelve hours…" He hesitated. "Send someone," he said with a wave toward Ron and Hermione, who were waiting behind Harry.

The boy vigorously nodded.

"Harry, it's possible that it's you they're looking for. Do not go out for any reason; have you understood me? Or this protection will have been placed in vain."

The intensity of the professor's eyes told Harry more than his words. '_I would've done all that for nothing.'_

And that…no, Harry couldn't allow it. Nodding his head, he gave in. "We'll wait. But I won't be sending anyone. Come back quickly."

And once again, his eyes said more to the professor than the words he'd just spoken.

Snape struggled for a moment against the sudden desire to rest his hand on the boy's forehead to calm the spark of painful worry lighting up the green eyes. Harry would've understood…but remembering the presence of two other teenagers, he contented himself with just a nod.

"Everything will be all right," he said in his calmest voice.

Then, with a great _crack¸_ he Disapparated.

* * *

a lot of thanks to Raewhit for the translation!

This is what you could call the end of the first part of Shadow...the come back to Hogwrts will bring new issues, and in particular a new ennmy. Or, well, new ennemies, actually.

Also, the come back of Remus soon! stay tuned ;-)


	27. Chapter 27 Crimson and Gold

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Crimson and Gold**

"Merlin, what was that—the end of the world?"

Stunned, the three teenagers stared at the place where the professor had been standing, only ten seconds earlier.

"I don't know…" Harry said as he shook his head. Everything had happened too quickly. "Severus talked about an attack, but he was convinced that Voldemort couldn't try anything himself tonight."

"That's not what I'm talking about," retorted Ron. "Bloody hell, he gave _fifty points_ to Gryffindor! Fifty! Since when does Snape give points to any House but his own, huh? Wait a minute…_Severus?"_

"Really, Ron!" Hermione said indignantly. "Hogwarts is being attacked this very moment; maybe we're safe, but that's not the case for the rest of the students, nor the professors!" she added with a sympathetic look for Harry. "There are more serious matters at hand than the use of a first name."

"I'd really liked to know where Snape went," Harry said, nervously twisting the corner of his tee-shirt. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he reluctantly looked away from the spot where the professor had disappeared.

"Not to Hogwarts, in all likelihood," the girl answered calmingly, gently pushing Harry toward an armchair. He felt into it heavily, while his companions sat a bit more carefully on the arms of the other chair.

"What makes you say that?"

"You can't Apparate into Hogwarts," she replied simply. "But I'm sure the professor knows what he's doing, Harry; you have nothing to worry about. He promised to come back quickly."

"There are promises that can't always be kept," Harry grumbled. "Blimey, and he didn't even take…he couldn't…" He stopped, annoyed. That was Snape's secret, and he doubted the professor would approve of him sharing it with his friends. But he knew perfectly well that the Potions master needed to take his potions regularly to have access to his powers. What was he intending to do like this?

He looked up and noticed that his friends were watching him worriedly.

"Harry, it'll be all right. Professor Snape knows what he's doing."

"I suppose so…I, er… Do you want something to drink? Tea? I don't think we have any butterbeer left."

The two of them looked at each other then, even more disconcerted.

"No, thanks," Ron said at last. "You, er…seem really comfortable here, I'd say."

"Oh," Harry said as it dawned on him. "Yeah, I suppose. It's…a good place, really."

"This is probably a stupid question, but just to be sure…are we really where I think we are?"

"Ron…_Snape Manor,"_ Hermione told him, irritated. "What do you think—that we're at Honeydukes?"

"Yeah, Snape brought us to his home," Harry confirmed before Ron could answer. "There are special wards here; no one can attack us."

"Is this where you spent the summer? I mean, after…" the redhead said with an embarrassed gesture.

Harry nodded.

"As for a manor, it looks more like a first class dungeon. Just what you'd expect of Snape," Ron snickered.

"This is the laboratory," Harry said, annoyed. "The basement. The rest of the Manor is above, but I'd prefer to stay here just now. It's more secure."

"Did you hear that screaming earlier?" Hermione quickly intervened. "I've never ever heard anything like it before. I wonder what sort of creature could've made it."

"Not Death Eaters, in any case," Harry said. "It sounded more like animals, something big."

"And there wasn't just one, by the noise they were making; there were at least a dozen. I wonder if they only went after Slytherins, or if they attacked all of Hogwarts…"

"They couldn't get to the dungeons without crossing a goodly part of the castle," Hermione pointed out. "What I'm wondering is how they could've got in and gone so far without being stopped."

The three of them were silent for a moment, running the pictures through their heads.

"Maybe they were looking for me," Harry finally said in a grave voice. "That's what Snape anticipated."

"If that's so, why did he bring you?" Ron asked skeptically.

"So I could get used to it, I think…I…I wasn't in a much of a hurry to go back to Hogwarts; it was supposed to be a quieter way of starting term than the usual one. He wasn't expecting this, that's for sure."

"Rather botched, so far as the quiet part…"

"And the worst is that now I want to go back, I hate not being able to do anything," Harry groaned. "Merlin, I hope no one was hurt."

"There was at least one, from the shouting we heard in the corridor." Hermione shuddered. "But you promised Professor Snape, Harry. It's not an option for you to leave."

"I don't intend to. But maybe I should try and Floo-call Dumbledore."

"Harry, I sincerely doubt that the Headmaster is in his office at this hour. He's certainly out fighting the attackers, whoever they are, and I don't think now's time to disturb him."

"And it's not like I could actually help," Harry sighed. "I suppose we're going to have to wait here."

"Wow, just wow," Ron said with a slight smile. "Not that I'm wild about riding on Thestrals, especially when I can't even see them, or running through Hogwarts' dungeons with a three-headed dog hot on my heels, but you're really talking about doing nothing?"

Harry shot him an annoyed look, not knowing if he should laugh or get angry.

"I don't know what Snape did to you during the hols, but I like it. No more giant spiders or traveling through time, and fifty points for Gryffindor. I think I'm going to like this year," Ron continued, wearing a big smile this time.

"…and a horde of monsters invading Hogwarts. And Snape gone off only Merlin knows where. Yeah, fantastic, thanks," Harry said dryly.

"Oh, he'll come back," Ron said confidently. "Good old Snape is indestructible, and it's not for lack of trying…"

"He's tried so hard that he almost died, just a few days ago!" Harry shouted. "And to save me, for a change! Not even counting everything that happened in the cemetery, when Voldemort tried to sacrifice me in his little voodoo rite! I don't know what you did during the hols, but Severus spent his time saving me and risking his life for me! So don't you dare say a single word about him to me… He's just saved you too, after all!"

"Harry," Hermione said, her eyes wide, "we had no intention of speaking badly of Snape; Ron was joking. Of course we hope he'll come back safe and sound. I'm truly sorry about all that's happened over the hols, but we didn't have any way of joining you. We asked Dumbledore to help with the search, but he refused. In fact, he asked us if we thought you could be an Animagus, but we told him no. I'm sorry, Harry, really, it must've been really hard for you."

The boy cut her off with a wave as he fell back into his chair, his anger extinguished.

"I know, 'Mione. You don't need to apologize; you had nothing to do with it. I'm just…a bit stressed recently," he said, staring at the fireplace, as if he expected to see someone enter at any moment. "The summer was horrible, but in a way, it was still the best one I've ever had. Thanks to Snape. It's…" he sighed. "I've got so many things to tell you."

Without a word, his two friends moved closer, as Harry tried to summarize his summer for them, avoiding the events and details that would've taken too long to tell, which turned out to be more complicated than he would've thought. When he finally was silent, a half-hour later, the two Gryffindors had at least as many question as when he'd started.

"So it's because of the bracelet that you were able to escape, both times?" Hermione asked, clearly moved.

Harry nodded. "I'll never be able to thank you enough, Hermione. I'll never give it up, in any case. Even when I'm in my cat form, it stays there, but as a necklace, oddly. I really don't know how that happens."

"I still don't understand why it didn't lead you to the Burrow," Ron interrupted. "I'd have thought that'd be the first place you would've wanted to go."

"It wasn't really a matter of what I wanted," Harry explained. "It has something to do with my mother… She wanted it to be Snape."

"Harry, this isn't easy to say, but are you sure you want to believe all these stories? I mean, I know that ghosts exist, but…Snape? I don't see why your mother would want you to end up with him. He's not exactly the most pleasant person in the world," Ron said.

"It's a long story. My mother and Snape knew each other at Hogwarts, and even before that. They were friends. And Snape's really taken good care of me; I can't tell you everything, because I don't think he'd be all right with that…but he's not like you think he is."

"After all you've told us, I don't doubt this was the best possible choice," Hermione said gently.

The two boys looked at her, one of them with relief, the only with surprise.

"Still…" Ron said. "Snape? After the way he's treated you since you came to Hogwarts? It's hard for me to believe he's totally changed."

"Me too," Harry admitted reluctantly. "But I have no right to doubt him. And…I want to believe him, I suppose," he said.

"I still say you have a screw loose, mate," Ron said amicably. "But if it makes him want to give points to Gryffindor…I'm certainly not going to be the one to complain."

"Does he really think Voldemort's been weakened?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "I saw him in a vision…I don't think he'll pose a problem for a while. But that still leaves the Death Eaters and the others. Dementors…do you think that could be them at Hogwarts?"

"I doubt it. I didn't get the feeling that a blizzard had come up, or that the last clown in the world was dead," Ron said. "I'd wager it was animals, maybe bears?"

"Anyway, this isn't the time for you to go back to Hogwarts," Hermione said firmly. "Professor Snape is right; it's too dangerous."

"That really wasn't the problem," Harry said. "I'm not afraid to go back, not because of that…but I'd have liked a bit of time to rest before going back to classes. Really rest, without attacks from Death Eaters, Voldemort, bears or whatever. Apparently, that's too much to ask…."

"Just rest by the fire, with your paws tucked in, huh?" Ron said sympathetically. "But imagine how great it's going to be to wander around Hogwarts in your cat form! Actually, what's with this Shadow stuff?"

Harry smiled. "It's the name Snape gave me before he knew who I was…but I'd prefer you don't repeat it, all right? It's just something between him and me."

"And now us," the redhead added. "Shadow…not bad. I think that'd make an excellent last name."

"Honestly, I'd like it better if you'd avoid using it," Harry confessed.

Ron rolled his eyes, but by the look Hermione gave him, Harry knew she understood.

"So what are we supposed to call you, then? Kitty? Blacky?"

Harry shrugged. "Why not?"

"I sort of like Blacky," Hermione said with a smile. "And besides, I'd have never thought that Snape lived in a manor. How big is it?"

"Big," Harry said. "And the park around it is huge. It's a bit far away from everything, but I like it a lot. It's really peaceful. This is probably going to seem bizarre to you," he said. Then, after hesitating, he added, "Snape said I can come back whenever I want, that the room I'm in will stay my own. And I think I really want to accept."

"Snape offered you a room in his house?" Ron asked, flabbergasted. "Bloody hell, mate, what's going on between the two of you? Are you sure he's not…I mean…you know?"

"No, I don't know," Harry said, fairly sure he wasn't going to like what was coming.

"Interested? In you, I mean?"

"Excuse me?" Harry choked out.

"You know very well what I mean. He hasn't tried to…flirt with you or anything?

"Ron!" Hermione cried.

"Listen, mate, I'm saying this for your benefit. I wouldn't want you to find yourself in his bed without seeing it coming," the redhead protested.

Time seemed to stop for an instant. Harry saw a quick flash of that evening, when he'd opened the professor's door and slipped in, searching for the comfort and security the man gave him. And the times when Snape had got up in the dead of night to comfort him after a nightmare, taking him in his arms as he would a little child, watching over him night after night. How could it even cross Ron's mind, to see something unhealthy in all that?

A rage such as he'd rarely known took hold of him, and a moment later, a black cat, fur standing on end, jumped onto the boy with all its claws out.

Screams filled the room, bouncing off of the stone walls. Ron cried out in pain as the sharp claws slashed his skin, while a panicked Hermione tried to trap the bundle of fur and rage ripping into the boy, the young cat growling in anger as it went after its best friend.

Hermione was the first to gather her wits. "_Animagus Revelio!_" she said desperately.

An instant later, the two boys were rolling on the floor, before suddenly stopping, Harry pinning Ron firmly to the ground, his fist clenched in his shirt. He was even paler than before he'd transformed, and the murderous look in his eyes left no doubt about his feelings.

"Don't. Ever. Again. Say. A. Word. About. Snape," he articulated, his voice shaking with anger.

A gentle but firm hand closed on his shoulder, and Harry quickly pulled back, still watching Ron.

With a worried look for the boy stretched out on the floor, who was watching them, stunned and speechless, Hermione gently pushed Harry away.

"That's enough, Harry. Ron said something stupid, but he certainly doesn't believe it," she said in her most soothing voice. "Calm down, please, I can't stand seeing you like this. The situation is already worrisome enough, don't you think? Please, Harry."

His eyes suddenly unfocused, the boy took two steps backwards, trembling slightly. "I…I'm sorry, I…"

Deciding that the worst was over, Hermione went to kneel next to Ron, who'd not dared to move yet.

"Nothing serious?"

"No," Ron said, still looking at his friend. "But I can't say I appreciated it much, being attacked by some sort of enraged puma. I don't want you to jump at my neck again, Harry, but seeing how you reacted, there really _is_ something wrong."

"You can't understand," the boy murmured, his eyes looking lost as he contemplated the fireplace.

Why was it that every time something good happened to him, it all went pear-shaped? Wasn't that what was going to happen? If he went on seeking out Snape's presence and protection, people were going to think they were in a romantic relationship.

Clearly, he was no longer a ten-year-old looking for a parent, or something similar. And if he returned to the Manor without good reason, everyone would think he was sleeping with Snape. With Snape. All right, he wasn't a child any longer, but to make the leap from that to.... Merlin, Snape could've been his father. How mixed up _was_ his life?

He closed his eyes, trying to feel the warmth of the fire on his face. All he wanted right now was for Snape to come back. For Ron and Hermione to go, and for him and Snape to finally be alone, safe, without anyone deciding what was good or bad for him.

Behind him, he could hear the murmur of conversation between his friends. Hermione seemed irritated, Harry thought. But she'd not contradicted Ron, had she? She probably thought the same as he did, without daring to admit it.

He heard her make a move toward him, probably to talk to him, but she didn't get the chance. Green flames appeared in the fireplace, and he was on his feet in a fraction of a second, his heart pounding. An instant afterward, he took a reluctant step backward from Dumbledore, whose robes were in disorder and his hair disheveled.

"Thank Merlin, you're here," he said, his voice full of relief.

"Professor, please, what's happening?" Hermione urged, stepping forward as quickly as Harry'd stepped back.

"Children, I'm afraid that Hogwarts suffered a new type of attack. Is Professor Snape with you?"

"No," Harry replied. "He Disapparated right away. He didn't tell us where he was going."

"Good, good," the Headmaster said, seeming not to believe a word of what he said.

"It's not _good_ at all," Harry protested. "He can't…you know… He shouldn't have left again!"

Dumbledore rested his ever-kind eyes on the teenager facing him, his own flooded with worry. How could this boy, who'd only two months ago refused to drink a single one of the professor's potions without being forced to, be standing here in front of him, so concerned about the same professor as if his own life depended on it?

Oh, Harry had an enormous capacity to love, that was certain…and Severus was truly fortunate. No, he corrected himself, the word fortunate didn't apply to the Potions master. Severus had simply earned the right to a bit of peace, and he'd paid a heavy price for it. Hopefully, nothing would happen to spoil it all once again.

"Professor Snape knows what he's doing, Harry," Dumbledore said at last in his most confident voice. "I'm persuaded you have no need to be concerned."

"But he's not in any shape for this," the boy retorted. "He didn't take anything before he left. Merlin…does he always have to play the hero?"

The Headmaster couldn't help but smile. Yes, Severus and Harry definitely had every reason to get along…

"Harry, Professor Snape is an adult, a member of the Order, and an excellent fighter, among other things. I'm convinced he knows his limits perfectly, and all that implies."

His firm expression brought the boy's protests to an end. But not his worrying, the Headmaster noticed, watching as the boy turned his stubborn eyes toward his friends.

Something was wrong there as well, the Headmaster deduced from the embarrassed demeanor of the two teenagers.

But for the moment, there were more pressing problems.

"Harry, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, I don't like having to leave you here alone."

"We've nothing to fear, with the wards," Harry interrupted him.

"_You_ have nothing to fear," the Headmaster corrected, "but the wards only respond to your presence. Can I count on you not to leave the Manor and put your friends in danger?"

"For sure," the boy grumbled.

"It seems safer to leave you here for now, but you must not hesitate to contact me in my office at the slightest problem. Fawkes will find me right away if I'm not there. Could you tell Professor Snape to contact me as soon as he returns?"

Harry nodded reluctantly.

"Professor," Hermione said insistently. "What exactly is going on at Hogwarts? We heard shouting… Was someone hurt?"

There was an instant of silence, then a sigh. "Indeed, Miss Granger, there were wounded. I suppose it's senseless to hide it from you any longer. Hogwarts was attacked by a mixed horde of wolves and werewolves, led by Fenrir Greyback."

"Werewovles?" Ron gasped. "Ginny…is Ginny all right?"

"Your sister is safe and sound, Mr. Weasley; she's safe in Gryffindor tower, even as we speak, under the care of Professor McGonagall."

"We heard someone getting attacked just outside Professor Snape's office, Headmaster," Hermione explained calmly. "Are there many wounded?"

"There are, yes. The attack was sudden and very widespread; that's why we had to make certain that the attackers had left the castle. You understand that I cannot stay any longer; I'll come back and check that all is well, once things are a bit calmer. You should be able to quickly return to the Tower, rest assured. Do you need anything before I leave?" the Headmaster asked courteously.

"Where's Remus?" Harry asked slowly and icily.

The Headmaster appeared to stiffen. "That I do not know, Harry."

"You're lying. He was on a mission to the werewolves; he had to tell you something! Where is he?" His tone of voice was almost threatening now.

"Harry!" Hermione said desperately from behind him, but the boy didn't back down.

"I would've definitely preferred for Professor Lupin to inform us of this attack before it took place, but that evidently wasn't the case. I'm totally ignorant of what's become of Remus Lupin, Harry, you must believe me. We're currently trying to question the werewolves we've captured, but given their state, it's difficult to communicate with them."

"And if Remus was one of them?"

"No, his magical signature would've been recognized. He was not one of the assailants this evening," the Headmaster finished evenly.

"Which means he's in trouble…" Harry murmured.

"It's useless to draw premature conclusions…"

"If Remus didn't alert you, and he wasn't part of the attack, that's because he was caught, or maybe killed, you know that very well!" the boy shouted. "Why do you always have to play with the lives of people who're important to me? Why Remus? Why Snape?"

He knew he was on the verge of tears, and even closer to having hysterics, but he was completely incapable of stopping now that he'd started.

"I am sorry, Harry," the Headmaster said gently. "I've committed numerous offenses toward you, more than I could've ever realized, no doubt…but I beg you to consider this, my boy. Remus was a friend of your parents, but without the position that was offered to him at Hogwarts, he would've never had the chance to get close to you and form a friendship with you. In the same way, Professor Snape and you would've never had the opportunity to become close, and you must believe that I'm the first to be happy about that. But these are fully trained, adult wizards, Harry, Order members, and that before you were even born. We're in a war…and as much as I'd like, it's impossible to keep them out of combat. That would, however, be my dearest wish, my boy, for them as well as for you…."

"I don't believe you," Harry replied weakly as he closed his eyes. "You just want to win the war. Just win it. You couldn't care less about me, or Remus or Severus. You just want them to fight for you. And die, if they have to. Oh, not me, of course, since I'm supposed to kill Voldemort first, isn't that right? But Remus or Snape, how important are they? Remus is because he'll help you get the werewolves' support, but that seems to have turned out badly, huh? And Severus for his potions. You're like Voldemort, exactly like Voldemort…"

A deathly silence answered him, and after a moment, Harry regretfully decided to do the only thing that was still possible: open his eyes. He'd expected to look into the Headmaster's hurt, blue, perhaps accusing eyes, but it was black and familiar eyes that answered him, making him jump up.

"Severus!"

The relief swept away all the emotions crashing together inside his head, and he rushed toward the Potions master before he stopped hesitantly, a step away from the man. Very well, he could hardly throw himself into his arms, especially given the circumstances.

"You're here," he said flatly.

The Potions master's lips thinned, before releasing a sigh.

"It would appear so. And we're going to have to have a serious conversation when I return, but I don't have time for that now. Albus, I must speak to you immediately, in your office, if it's possible?"

The old wizard nodded, before turning to the two Gryffindors who'd remained still and silent since the beginning of the scene. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Professor Snape will take you back as soon as all the danger has passed."

With a quick nod of his head, he threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and disappeared, leaving the two teenagers still in shock, and a Harry flushed with confusion, as well as a Potions professor whose face was inscrutable.

Silence spread through the room once again, even heavier than the moment before. Harry could feel the blood pounding in his ears as he stared at his feet and, just a step away, the toes of the black, muddied boots of the professor.

He would've given anything to be able to Disapparate, preferably to the other side of the country, or to a desert island, but that wasn't an option now. Gathering all the typically Gryffindor courage he could muster, he finally decided to look up and meet the black, impassivel eyes of the Potions master.

He stood there for a moment, trying to read something in them: disappointment perhaps, as well as anger and disgust. The moment he felt sure he was about to liquefy into a little puddle of shame on the laboratory floor, a hand lifted slowly and reached out for his face.

It was too much for Harry; before he could control his reflexes, he'd jumped, sidestepping backward to put himself out of reach…then he changed his mind, his face even redder, and moved back into place, letting his eyes drift to the floor again. Not so quickly that he missed the look on the professor's face, though: faint, really, just a slight tic of the cheek, his lips twisting as if he'd just received a slap…

Then the calloused palm came to rest lightly on the boy's forehead, making Harry look up, confused.

"Are you all right?"

The professor's voice was measured and calm. No anger, or scorn, nothing like Harry'd expected.

Feeling his shoulders slump as if a weight had just left them, Harry nodded, incapable of saying a word. The fingers on his forehead played with the unruly locks that covered his scar for an instant, and Harry closed his eyes, letting the relief course through him. _He _was there. Snape had come home, safe and sound, and he wasn't going to throw him out, or shout at him. He was certainly due for a good lecture on behavior, though, and even a punishment, perhaps, but everything was going to go back to normal. Mostly. As much as possible.

"I must go, I cannot stay any longer. Go up and fix something to eat for yourself and your guests. I'll be back in a few hours, at most."

Wetting his lips, the boy finally found the ability to speak again. "I'll set a plate aside for you. Come back, all right?"

His tone was much more pleading than he would've liked, but he couldn't care less. Ron and Hermione could think what they wanted at this point, and that was perfectly fine with him.

The professor took his turn to nod. "No nonsense. And Harry…thank you for not trying to leave."

Without a glance for the other two Gryffindors, he stepped into the fireplace.

Harry stared for a moment at the flames that'd returned to their normal color, breathing in and out deeply.

"How long was he there?" he finally asked as he turned toward his friends.

"He Apparated in just at the middle of Dumbledore's little lecture about the war and the professors," Ron answered. "Rather discreetly, but I don't know how you managed to miss it."

"Splendid," Harry sighed. "I'm in for the full lecture on respect for one's elders and how to behave in a crisis situation. Just what I was need."

Ron didn't answer right away, but something in his eyes caught Harry's attention. Something akin to hesitation, and a certain amusement.

Shifting from one foot to another, Ron finally decided to say, "Listen, mate, this might seem a bit strange, since we were just scratching each other's eyes out a few minutes ago, but…maybe I said something stupid before."

Lifting an eyebrow, Harry faced him, his arms crossed in front of him. "Maybe?"

His shoulders shaking with a small, embarrassed laugh, Ron finally decided to look him in the eyes. "Admit that's it's not very easy to imagine what you and Snape could have in common all of a sudden…I don't know how to start. When you're in your cat form, it's not as bizarre, but seeing the way Snape looked at you just now, and what he said… I suppose I understand, all right? A bit," he offered with a smile, and an apology in his eyes.

"And what is it that you understand, exactly?" Harry asked, only half-convinced.

Once again, Ron had that little mocking glint in his eyes. "Let's say that if he wants to play mother hen with you and you're agreeable…I suppose everyone's happy with that, then. And, fifty points for Gryffindor, after all!"

"Excuse me?" Harry choked on the words. "But what…that's ridiculous!"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a knowing look without trying to hide their little smiles.

"You're completely off the mark!" Harry protested. "He's simply…he's taken care of me this summer, and really, we get on rather well when no one meddles in our affairs. That's got nothing to do with… Do you have other stupid ideas like that one?"

He could feel his face flush to almost purple, but apparently waving his hands in the air wasn't enhancing his credibility. Taking a deep breath, he made it a point of honor to assume an open attitude, his arms crossed and his eyes as neutral as possible.

"Harry, there's noting wrong in that," Hermione said gently. "It's even good news if you…"

"That's enough," the boy interrupted. "You're both my friends and I adore you, but if this conversation goes any further, I'm going to end up angry. Please?"

"All right," Hermione gave in. "It's probably not a good time anyway. Professor Snape said something about eating: I'll admit I'm not really hungry, but if tea were possible, I'd not say no."

Harry nodded. "We ate just before we left as well. I suppose he just wanted to give me something to do. I'm still going to make something in case he…"

This time, Ron and Hermione tried to hide their knowing looks, but they didn't escape Harry's notice; he rolled his eyes.

"Come on, let's go. I'll give you the grand tour," he said with a wave toward the stairway.

Slightly relieved, they went up into the Manor with a lighter step. It was almost like going back up to Gryffindor tower after a Potions class, Harry thought…except he already missed the dungeon.

"My room is here," he said, pointing to his door on the landing,' and Snape's is just opposite. The dining room's at the end."

Ron let out a little whistle of admiration. "Rather impressive; it's really big and well-kept. I suppose there're house-elves."

"No, they wouldn't be of much use anyway. I don't think Snape uses many of the rooms when I'm not here. And even when I am…we sort of stick to the downstairs."

"That's strange," Hermione said pensively as she advanced down the hallway. "It doesn't look like the old family manors you see in magazines…"

The two boys stared at her in disbelief.

"Oh, enough, I don't see what's wrong with reading 'My Wizarding Home' or 'Magical Décor.'"

"Don't tell me you're already thinking about your future home," Ron groaned. "That's the sort of magazine my mother reads."

"She lends them to me when she's finished," Hermione confirmed. "Whatever, there're magnificent photos of old wizarding family dwellings, but nothing like this place. It's like it came directly out of a catalogue."

"It's not a family estate," Harry agreed. "Snape's said some rather odd things about the Manor; I'm not exactly sure how he came by it, but he doesn't seem to like it much. I wonder why he keeps it. It's much too large for a single person."

"Maybe," Ron said, "but it has class. Snape Manor…has a rather nice ring to it, and it's Snape's sort of…well, you know," he finished, embarrassed.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know, but there's something about it that isn't right. I'll have to try and learn more if I have the time. Who wants tea?"

Opening the doors in the kitchen, he took out a few pots and quickly began to fix an evening snack.

Opting for the warmth of the dining room, where a fire still burned in the grate, they sat around the table.

"I'm not complaining about being here, safely sipping mint tea, but I'd still really like to know what's going on at Hogwarts," Ron admitted. "Werewolves…if students were bitten, then parents are going to want to take their children home as quickly as possible."

"And they might want to have Hogwarts closed," Harry added. "Bloody hell, I really hope nothing happened to Remus; I can't believe he didn't sound the alarm beforehand. There's really something wrong there, no matter what Dumbledore says."

"It's the full moon, Harry. Maybe he's not really conscious just now."

"It's not just that. I know Remus, and if he'd known I was in trouble, he would've come right away. It's been a month since all of this started, so that means Dumbledore wasn't able to contact him, don't you think?"

Hermione fidgeted in her chair, ill-at-ease. "I'm sure he would've come if he could've…but apparently, the situation with the werewolves is rather complicated. No use in imagining the worst, Harry. Best to wait until you know more."

He shook his head. "At least if they close Hogwarts, I'll have someplace to go."

"Here, you mean?" Ron asked. Then, when Harry confirmed this with a nod, Ron added, "You know, my parents wanted you to come our house when they heard about the Mug…your family. Our door is always open, all right? You don't have to stay here."

Before Harry had the time to answer, Hermione jumped into action. "Harry, when your uncle and aunt died, the Weasleys offered to be your guardians, but Dumbledore said it was impossible, that you wouldn't want …"

The boy was silent for a long moment, staring at the wall in front of him. Dumbledore…

"He was right," he admitted at last.

"But then who? It's not the Ministry, is it?" Hermione pushed him. Then, seeing her friend's face pale, she added, "Oh, I'm sorry; it's really tactless on my part, I shouldn't have asked you that…"

"No," Harry interrupted. "It's fine. It's just…don't tell anyone, all right? If it were to get out, it would make things more difficult…bloody hell, I wonder how the Slytherins would take it."

Hermione let out a gasp. "It's not really Professor Snape?"

"No. Not really," Harry replied. Then he added with a sigh, "It's Dumbledore. He's obtained temporary guardianship, for the time it takes for things to calm down and until I can go back to Hogwarts. I suppose it'll last until my next birthday."

"Wow, but that's great!" Ron exclaimed. "You're officially the Headmaster's pet! But you're right, I don't think the Slytherins will appreciate the news," he said, bursting into laughter.

Harry sat frozen, staring obstinately into his cup.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked softly. "This doesn't seem to please you very much."

He shook his head. "It's not that. It's…complicated. And in a way, you're right. It's Snape who'll be making decisions about me, if there are any. Dumbledore promised him. It's just paperwork, nothing more."

A long silence stretched out after his declaration.

"Harry," Hermione said at last. "I know it's confusing right now, but I'm certain they're doing their best for you. Everything will work our, I'm sure."

He shrugged. "It's not really important. Once I'm at Hogwarts, it'll just be another year like any other. With werewolves on top of it all, apparently. By the way, you've not told me about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," he said, in an effort to redirect the conversation.

"Because there isn't one," Ron answered. "It's totally bizarre. With Snape absent, and one fewer professor at least, the High Table was rather empty. Dumbledore said he'd handle the classes until someone else takes over. He didn't say anything more, but the other professors didn't seem happy. McGonagall was livid…"

"With the curse, that's not surprising at all. But it doesn't make much sense—he'd not be here for a full year anyway. No one must want the position, after what's happened to the others."

"I don't know," Hermione said, "I had the impression that it was something else." She shook her head. "A Defense professor would've come in handy this evening, in any case. Oh, did you get your OWL results, Harry?"

He couldn't help but smile at her eagerness. "Not really, outside of my Potions mark, but I suppose I can guess yours! Let me see… O's in every subject?"

Hermione had the good grace to blush, all the while shaking her head in frustration. "Not in Defense, no."

"I wonder how many I got," Harry murmured. "I didn't get my marks, but I suppose Snape must have them."

"Do you think the owls lost track of you in your cat form?" Ron asked, interested.

"No idea," Harry laughed. "Hedwig is still at Hogwarts, but with the Fidelius Charm on the Manor, no owl can deliver post. Snape must know about my marks, I suppose; I wonder why he didn't tell me."

"Maybe because you didn't ask him?" Hermione suggested.

Harry'd opened his mouth to ask her what she meant by that, when he heard a door close in the hallway. In an instant, he was on his feet.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione cried, pulling him back by his sleeve. She and Ron had already drawn their wands and pointed them at the door.

"This is ridiculous," the boy protested. "It's…"

"Unnecessary, in fact," Snape interrupted calmly as he stepped into the room. "But I appreciate your caution, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. You can lower your wands; Harry has nothing to fear here."

The two of them quickly put away their wands, slightly confused despite the professor's approval. The memory of the night when they'd attacked Snape in the Shrieking Shack in third year seemed to hover between them for a moment.

"Nothing out of the ordinary while I was gone?" the professor casually asked at last.

"No," Harry replied. "How's the situation at Hogwarts?"

"The assailants were pushed back, and the wounded taken to St. Mungo's. Most of them, at least."

"Most of them?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Snape considered him for a long moment. "We'll have certain matters to discuss. But for now, I'd like to take these two Gryffindor prefects back to their tower, so they can fulfill their duties and demand some order of their little housemates."

Hermione suddenly took a frantic step forward. "I'd almost forgotten. Merlin, it's our first day as prefects and we're here, peacefully drinking tea while…"

"Miss Granger," Snape intervened, "Professor McGonagall is in control of the situation; your primary role will be that of quelling the rumors concerning your death and Harry's."

The three teenagers froze at the words.

"Concerning that," the professor continued, with a pointed look for the startled dark-haired boy, "I'd appreciate if what Harry's told you—whatever he's managed to tell you—stays within these walls. Outside of the fact that he's alive and well, all the information about him must remain an absolute secret until he returns. Have I made myself clear?"

Ron and Hermione nodded vigorously, not inclined to challenge the professor.

"Mr. Weasley, your parents have been informed, and unless you do not feel safe at Hogwarts, they want you to remain at the castle for now."

"That's fine with me," the boy muttered.

"As for you, Miss Granger, your parents have not yet been reached, but if you would like to go home, the arrangements will obviously be made."

"Thanks, Professor, but I prefer to stay at Hogwarts," Hermione replied firmly.

"Gryffindor," Snape murmured. "Very well. In that case, if you'll follow me…"

"One minute," Harry interrupted, then turned to his friends. "Listen, I know that Hedwig can't come to me, but if you have something to send, ask Dumbledore, all right? And stop by and see if Hedwig's all right, if you can. I haven't seen her in a month."

Snape sighed, but not in irritation, Harry sensed. Something was bothering him…

"Mr. Potter will indeed not be returning to classes right away. However, I believe I'm not wrong in saying that you'll see him at Hogwarts very shortly."

Harry shot him a sideways glance. "I thought that was up to me," he objected.

"Completely," Snape confirmed. "That's exactly what's bothering me right now."

The boy opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the professor raised a hand for silence. "Later."

Harry reluctantly nodded and turned to his friends. "See you soon, then," he said with a shrug.

Both of them told him goodbye, their eyes bright and slightly tinged with regret as they followed the Potions master into the laboratory. He reappeared a moment afterward, alone, and hurried back to the dining room where he'd left Harry.

Harry'd sat at his place again, and seemed lost in the contemplation of his teacup. Tired, thought Snape as he met his eyes. He could easily understand it. Seating himself opposite the boy, he served himself a cup of tea.

"I suppose this quiet return wasn't as calm as I'd foreseen," he finally said.

"You knew something was going to happen," Harry said softly.

"I thought there _might_ be an attempt this evening," Snape corrected. "But I thought it would take place at the feast, if at all, and certainly not that it'd succeed. I'd have never taken you if I'd foreseen that, Harry," he said, his black eyes fixed on the boy's.

"I know," Harry answered. "Ron and Hermione told me to come back here, but I didn't want to listen to them. I couldn't leave them there while someone was being attacked just outside."

Snape grumbled, "Clearly. I suppose I should've anticipated that. But we had an agreement, Harry, and I don't appreciate seeing you set it aside so negligently."

Toying nervously with his cup, the boy shot him a look that was both guilty and imploring. "Please…tell me what actually happened. Who was hurt? Where is Remus? Where did you go?"

Severus thought he could decipher a slight note of reproach in that last question. "Very well," he finally said. "First, the complete account, then the lecture on your behavior, I presume."

Harry smiled weakly. "I'm sorry about that scene with Dumbledore, really, I was…please, Professor?"

Snape nodded. "The attack took place just after we'd arrived. In other words, once the students had left for their respective common rooms, and the professors had dispersed. It would seem the wolves successfully got into the castle through several entry points. Most of them came from the garden, others from various underground tunnels. However it was, they attacked several parts of the castle at the same time, making defense more difficult, especially given their number."

"There were only wolves, weren't there?" Harry interrupted. "Dumbledore said something about werewolves."

Snape gave him an irritated look. "Werewolves and wolves, indeed. May I continue?"

"Sorry," Harry offered.

"Be that as it may, it was difficult to counter the attack. Fortunately, the pack that undertook the assault in the Slytherin dungeons wasn't looking to attack students."

"Wait a second, there's something I don't understand," Harry interjected. "How did the wolves, or the werewolves, while we're on it, how could they get into the common rooms? You have to know the password."

"They had them," Snape calmly replied.

"But that doesn't make sense! They can't even speak, they aren't really aware of what they're doing."

"Believe me, these were. And they could speak as well, at least enough to say the passwords."

"I don't understand…"

"Neither do I," the professor admitted. "The fact is that the werewolves present were as aware as any human. Perhaps not as intelligent, but completely masters of their will. This is an ominous development; it means they've found a way to use their strength in a reasoned manner…and even more destructively."

"Remus definitely knows something; he had to have tried to warn the Order and get himself caught; he was on a mission with them!"

Snape sighed. "Which brings us to your other question: the wounded."

Harry felt a lead weight drop to his stomach.

"Lupin took part in the attack," the professor continued. "When the werewolves came out of the Forbidden Forest, they went straight for Hagrid's hut. Lupin, ever the good Gryffindor, tried to protect him."

"Hagrid?" Harry murmured. "No! They didn't… Remus…"

"Before you twist your brain in two, Lupin is in the infirmary at Hogwarts, under Madam Pomfrey's care," Severus said. "He's not in very good shape just now—he's unconscious—but he should recover. You'll be able to see him when he regains consciousness."

"And Hagrid?" Harry murmured.

The professor's lips thinned. "Hagrid was no longer there when I arrived."

"No longer there? What's that mean, no longer there?"

"There was evidence of a struggle, and…Hagrid's dog had been killed."

"Fang?" Harry choked out. "But he's the size of a cow!"

"Harry, he was attacked by a pack of wolves and werewolves…he didn't have a chance."

"But Hagrid…maybe he ran off into the Forest; other creatures could've come to his rescue. The centaurs, for example…"

"The centaurs don't get mixed up in these matters," Snape interrupted calmly. "I might be wrong, but I think Hagrid was kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Harry gasped. "But that doesn't make sense."

"It does if he knew something that might betray them. Hagrid is the first person I thought of when I wondered how this bunch of degenerate fleabags could get into Hogwarts."

"So, that's where you Disapparated to…"

Snape nodded. "Into the Forbidden Forest, about a hundred meters from Hagrid's hut."

"Straight into the wolf's mouth," Harry pointed out.

"That was more or less the idea, actually. But I arrived too late."

"Oh really," Harry hissed, "you would've been brilliant in the middle of a pack of wolves, without magic. Perfectly brilliant."

"The werewolves were all at Hogwarts," Snape replied dryly. "There was no longer anyone near the hut, and even so, I certainly wouldn't have had any trouble getting rid of them. Your confidence in my abilities is truly flattering," he said sarcastically.

"You know very well what I mean. You didn't take any potions before leaving; you could very well still be there, if you'd been attacked!" Harry shouted. The cup he was holding seemed about to break, but he couldn't seem to loosen his grip. There was no question that Snape saw his fingers shaking…either from frustration or fear, he realized afterward.

"Very unlikely. Whatever, that little expedition enabled me to take Remus Lupin back to Hogwarts before it was too late. I suppose the stakes were worth the risk," Snape said nonchalantly.

For a long moment, student and professor remained motionless, Harry searching Snape's eyes for all he could find there, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Please don't do this," he ended by saying.

"Excuse me?" Snape said as he raised an eyebrow.

"Don't ask me to choose between you and Remus, all right? Because I can't lose you, either one of you."

The professor stayed silent for an instant, thoughtful. "Was this the topic of that little fit of hysterics earlier, in the laboratory?"

Harry looked away. "Doesn't matter. You promised to be here. Do you intend to keep that promise, or do you plan to charge headfirst into every single trap until you get yourself killed?"

"Harry, there was nothing as dramatic as you seem to think there was."

"Yes, there was," the boy replied stubbornly. "You and Remus, you're both the same."

"A comparison that I'm decidedly not certain I appreciate," Snape retorted. "Now, could you remind me of the reason why you didn't return straightway to the Manor when the situation deteriorated?"

"I've already told you, I couldn't leave—" Harry began before stopping abruptly.

Snape raised an ironic eyebrow.

"It's not the same thing," the boy muttered.

"No, indeed, I don't lapse into unnecessary heroics," the professor replied.

"It wasn't…"

"No matter. We'll discuss your personal notions of safety rules, and that little outburst with the Headmaster again tomorrow. It seems to me that a good night's sleep wouldn't be amiss to calm both our minds."

One in particular, Harry understood. Perhaps, yes, maybe he was slightly emotional and susceptible lately. Merlin, a cat's life was much less complicated.

"But before we do, I'd like you to promise me something," Snape continued.

Harry looked up at him in question.

"Stop putting yourself deliberately in danger. I cannot fight effectively if I must think that you're perhaps off risking your life by playing the hero. You're sixteen, Harry. Don't do any more than is necessary, and do it carefully. Promise me to think before acting, to think of how to stay safe and sound above all else."

The boy stayed still, staring at him, his mouth hanging open. This was very nearly what he would've liked to make Snape promise. The idea struck him forcefully, and for an instant, he was simply incapable of answering.

Then the professor spoke again, his voice softer and lower than Harry'd heard it in a long while.

"I can promise to come back, Harry. But that would be useless if there were no one waiting for me."

And with that, the pieces of the puzzle seemed to finally fall into place in the boy's mind. Harry felt a smile overtake him. "Come home safe and sound. I can do that, if you do."

Severus slowly nodded without looking away.

"Home," Harry murmured.

This time, it was Snape who smiled. "Yes, home."

And for a few moments, it was almost easy to believe it.

* * *

A lot of thanks to Raewhit for the translation! We are entering the part 2 here, with the little wold problem... and soon, Remus steps in, for all the Lupin's lovers ;-)

Stay tuned!


	28. Chapter 28 Those We Hold Dear

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Those We Hold Dear

The shadows barely stood out from behind the thick curtains, but Harry couldn't pull his eyes away. Nothing but indistinct outlines cast by the full moon, but it was easy to imagine wolves there, or maybe the silhouettes of men, or even stags.

Sighing, he threw back the covers and headed for the window. It'd been well into the night when he and Snape had gone to their rooms, and he felt exhausted now. Enough, he believed, to fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow…but that hadn't been the case.

Pictures of the day swam through his head, over and over, not any less harrowing. The shouts in the corridor. Ron and Hermione. Snape Disapparating. Ron's insinuations. Remus wounded. Hagrid gone… How could he sleep?

Drawing open the curtains, he sat on the windowsill, his eyes turned toward the park. The room was located on the main floor, but the ground fell away, down towards the park, affording him a large open view of the surrounding area.

Yes, he could've almost imagined the shadows of a stag and dog out there, underneath the trees…and Remus with them, of course. Maybe even Lily watching them with amusement. Who would've thought of his mother in the midst of all that? Remus and Severus risking their lives, Hogwarts under siege, his own life suddenly so complicated. What good did it do him to have Voldemort's powers if he wasn't able to master them most of the time? And if…

Light knocking at the door pulled him from his reverie.

"Come in."

The door opened and closed soundlessly, giving way to a wizard with drawn features. Without a word, Snape came to join him, and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. Harry thought he could detect a trace of worry in the eyes searching his face.

"I couldn't get to sleep," he apologized.

Snape nodded. "It was a rather long day."

"I was tired earlier. I suppose I should've taken a Sleeping Draught."

"Potions aren't the remedy for everything," Severus replied calmly.

Harry glanced at him in surprise. It wasn't the first time the Potions master had said that… And curiously, he couldn't help but experience a certain comfort in hearing it.

"It's just too hard to sleep while Remus is in the infirmary and Hagrid is maybe dead by now. If only I could do something. I can't even sense Voldemort's thoughts anymore."

"Which is rather a good thing," Snape said. "That means he is still too weak to try anything, now that your new powers have mastered his intrusions. You cannot always save the world, Harry. No one expects that of you."

"Really?" Harry asked with a small, bitter smile. "I thought that was still how it worked. I save the world and you save me."

"Harry," Snape huffed out, "By now, I thought you understood."

"Understood what exactly?" Harry asked suspiciously. He thought he knew the answer very well, but he needed to hear it.

"That's only the war, idiot child. I'm not here to win a stupid battle. I'm here for you."

The boy let out a long sigh. "Yeah, that's what Ron seems to think as well."

"Ron?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"After you left earlier, he said something really stupid," Harry stopped hesitantly. He wasn't at all sure he wanted to witness Snape's reaction to Ron's accusations.

"And how ridiculous did Mr Weasley make himself seem?" Severus asked.

Reluctantly, Harry continued, "Roughly…he wanted to know if there was, you know, something between you and me. Like a romantic relationship."

He sensed more than saw Snape stiffen.

"And I lost control of my powers a bit," Harry finished, distraught.

"Meaning?"

"I transformed and then I jumped on him. I mean, really, I scratched him and bit him like…what did he call it. Oh, yeah, an enraged puma."

In the light of the full moon, he saw a slight smile stretch the professor's lips.

"I really didn't think," Harry continued. "I was crazy with rage and that's what happened. I don't even know if I could've transformed back. Hermione took charge of, er, calming me down."

"I see," the professor said slowly before sighing. "I don't know where to begin. What's on your mind the most, Harry—your powers or Mr. Weasley's obscene insinuations?"

"I don't think I know," he finally confessed without daring to meet the professor's eyes.

Severus nodded solemnly. For a long moment, he was silent, gathering his thoughts. When he finally began to speak, it was in a calm and measured voice, heavy with regret.

"It's a bit strange to think that the person I actually loved, Harry, was your mother."

Harry's breath caught. "The only one?"

Snape nodded. "Your mother and I met when we were children. She was my only true friend, and as we grew up, my feelings naturally evolved. She was…everything to me. In a way, she was the only person who really counted through all those years. My parents weren't really the sort of people to whom it was easy to become attached, and as far as I know, they thought the same of me."

"I know what you mean," Harry murmured, pictures of Vernon and Petunia flashing through his mind.

"I don't doubt it," Snape answered gently. "Like your aunt and uncle, my parents had never wanted me there. In truth, I don't think they ever wanted to make a family." He was lost for a moment in his memories, before going on, "Lily was always there for me. When I later had to choose between her and what I thought to be the only way to achieve a glorious destiny… I could've never chosen anything but her, Harry, you must believe me. But everything turned out wrong."

He shook his head. "Losing her was the worst thing that'd ever happened to me. Even if she chose your father in the end, even if her feelings for me faded, I was never able to do the same. I was never able to forget her." He grimaced.

"The Dark Lord had long insisted on my meeting other witches, purebloods. But I succeeded in convincing him that my work as Potions master could only suffer from it, and he ended by abandoning the idea. A relief, you can imagine."

Then, searching Harry's eyes and fixing them, he went on, "There never was, and there never will be, anyone but your mother for me, Harry. Rather pathetic, I know. I've never been a great romantic, really. Loving once was enough for me, I suppose."

Holding his eyes, Harry answered softly, "She loved you too, I'm sure of it."

Snape gave a small bitter smile. "She loved your father, Harry, have no doubt about it. Even more than she could've ever loved me. They were a very close and happy couple, really. Thinking about it, I can't help but say that she made the right choice. Despite the tragic fate that befell your parents…"

He shook his head. "They were perfect for each other, Harry. You're the best proof of that."

Harry swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be," Severus replied. "Anyway, that part of me died with Lily. Mr. Weasley's fears on that matter are entirely misguided and unnecessary."

Harry nodded. He was relieved to have been able to talk to Severus about it, but the professor's account had left a weight in his chest.

"In reality," the professor continued a bit more hoarsely, "the simple notion of feeling fondness for someone became impossible for me after she disappeared. Not that I'd ever been particularly sociable, obviously," he added with a slight smile. "The risk of becoming fond of someone, and losing them…it wasn't worth it."

Yes, Harry could almost feel the pain in the professor's voice. But it was his own fear that formed a lump in his throat now.

"And then you arrived," Snape added. "Shadow. You. I don't know how I was able to deny seeing anything but James in you for so long…James who'd stolen Lily's eyes. But that had nothing to do with you, after all. And what you are, Harry, what's brought us closer these last few weeks, I know I don't want to lose it."

Harry felt himself relax all of a sudden as he met the professor's eyes. "I understand, you know. That you hated me from the start, I mean. Everyone tells me I look like James. In your place, I would've hated me too."

Snape shook his head. "It was irrational and petty. Completely inappropriate behavior for someone my age. Albus told me often enough. But none of that's important anymore. I hope you can believe that."

"I know," Harry said softly, "your cat, huh?"

Severus tensed. "I hope that jest didn't offend you," he said stiffly.

"On the contrary. I liked it. Being your cat, I mean. It was almost like having a family." He hesitated for a moment. "Do you think it would be possible for…"

"Yes?" Snape encouraged him when he stopped.

"You know, when I saw your memories the other day, not on purpose, when I, er, used Legilimency?"

"I remember very well," the professor grumbled.

"Uh, yeah, so, well…you told Petunia…oh, no, forget about it." With a groan of frustration, he looked toward the window. It would've been good to be out there, flying…

"Harry, go on. I'm not going to be angry."

"It's not that. It's…" He took a deep breath, and summoning his courage, he said, "Petunia said I could've been your son, and you told her yes, by a few years. Is that really possible? That I'm your son, I mean?"

The long look Snape gave him only increased his anxiety. Something made the professor's lips twist, then he finally opened his mouth to answer. "No, Harry, you're not my son. It's enough to look at you to know that: you're the spitting image of James. And more handsome, if I might say. Lily's features softened his… In any case, I never had a physical relationship with your mother, Harry. Merlin, I couldn't even tell her I loved her, so how could there've been?" he groaned, feeling his stomach knot with the memories.

In front of him, he saw Harry's face fall slightly. Merlin, at times the boy could seem so pathetic. How could he want to be the son of an ex-Death Eater, one who'd caused his parents' downfall, nothing less? And yet… He cleared his throat.

"Harry, listen to me. No, you certainly are not my biological son. But the ties of blood aren't everything, at least when it comes to family. Lily was more my family than my parents could've ever been. If that's what you want…" He took a deep breath. "I'd certainly have no objection to us establishing this type of relationship between the two of us."

"You don't have to do that," the boy answered quickly.

"No, indeed," Snape replied. "It's a completely selfish and self-serving suggestion on my part."

"Self-serving?" Harry asked, astonished and disconcerted. "I don't understand."

"The laboratory is overrun with mice; I desperately need a cat to hunt them down," Snape said in his most serious tone of voice.

Harry smiled at him, the tension he'd not even felt suddenly leaving his shoulders. "I meant what I said, Professor," he went on. "You don't owe my mother anything. Even if she led me here, you've already done a great deal for me. It's me who owes you a debt, really."

"And I also meant what I said, Potter. A debt…do you think my life is ordered only by obligations and debts?" he asked dryly.

"I…no, that's not what I meant," Harry exclaimed quickly.

"I'm probably not the best model for a father figure you could imagine. Actually, I don't have the slightest experience in the matter, and my knowledge of family theory is rudimentary. But if you like, I'm ready to try. You have no obligation either, Harry, let that be clear. Only know that the door is open…"

Harry took a moment to look at him, his mouth open and his eyes sparkling.

"Are you serious?"

"As serious as I can be. I know our relationship has changed much recently, and you have every reason to mistrust me and my steadfastness, but I can assure you that my intentions toward you are completely firm. Whatever you decide, I will always be here if you need me."

The boy stayed silent for a long moment, and Severus could almost see the thoughts racing through his head.

When Harry spoke finally spoke again, his voice was slow and earnest. "When Voldemort tried to reach me the other day in the dungeon, to make me go out, he used you."

Snape opened his mouth to answer, but Harry lifted a hand to stop him.

"He sent me visions. A little like in a Pensieve…and a little like what Malfoy and Bellatrix did. Except this time, it was you. You were with Dumbledore, and you were telling him that you couldn't stand me, that I was obnoxious and that you'd had enough of playing at this farce."

He fixed his eyes on Snape's to make sure he understood what he meant. "But it didn't work. I didn't believe it. I couldn't." He sighed. "I trust you, all right? I trust you."

He easily read the new measure of respect in the professor's eyes, and something that almost looked like gratitude.

"Thank you, Harry," he breathed out.

"It's for me to thank you. And if you're sure about wanting me… I know I'm totally cracked, and I'm not sure I know more about it than you, but… Yes, I'd like to try as well."

There was a sudden lull in the conversation as the two wizards studied each other, with slight smiles on their faces. Then, with a flick of his wand, Snape made two bottles of butterbeer appear, then held one out to Harry.

"I suppose this is cause for celebration," he said as he uncapped his own.

Smiling outright now, Harry held out his hand to tap their bottles together. "To the future."

"To the future," Snape echoed.

Turning their eyes toward the park, they drank their butterbeers in long gulps.

For an instant, Harry thought that this was probably the happiest moment of his life. Just peaceful, he thought to himself. Just peaceful, after a horrible day. The memories of it flooded his mind, and he sobered.

"Professor…Severus. About what happened earlier, I wouldn't want you to think… I mean, I'm not afraid of you."

Snape looked at him, lifting an ironic eyebrow. "You're going to have to be more specific if you want me to understand what you're saying. The day's been very long and rather full."

"Earlier in the laboratory, when you came back," Harry explained. "When you wanted to touch me and I stepped away. It wasn't you. It was just a reflex. I know very well you wouldn't hurt me," he stated as firmly as he could.

But Snape, trained to notice everything, sensed the question in his declaration. He shook his head. "Merlin, Harry. No, I'd never raise a hand to you, not in that way. Whatever I might've done in my career as a Death Eater, I never had the slightest impulse to strike a child…not even you, despite our past history."

"I know, Professor," Harry repeated.

"I'm not so sure," Snape said.

There was silence, then Harry went on, "I'm not really a child, you know. You could…I don't know. You might say I always manage to hit on the precise thing that makes you beside yourself. But I don't do it on purpose, I swear."

"Harry…" Severus stretched out a hand to the boy's shoulders and pulled him close to himself. After a second's hesitation, Harry let go and leant against the professor, who wrapped him in his arms.

Oh, Merlin. Closing his eyes, Harry gave in to the feeling that filled him, that of being protected.

"Harry," Snape continued gently, "you're a child. Clearly you are. You've perhaps passed beyond your childhood years, but that changes nothing of the fact that you're still only a young boy who has the right to be protected, and to want to be protected. Perhaps you seem older than you are, but it seems to me that just yesterday you were eleven, and you narrowly missed falling from that bloody broom in the middle of the match. Whatever you do, Harry, you could never push me to hurt you. The idea of striking you has never crossed my mind, not even after that episode with the Pensieve."

Harry buried his head a bit more in the wizard's robes at these words. If only he could forget that incident….

"On the other hand…you saw my memories the other day, didn't you?"

Harry nodded, unable to speak. Snape was right. He was eleven and he only wanted to stay there, listening to the professor comforting him, without having to worry about the rest of it.

"So, you know what I think about the way your uncle treated you."

Harry shuddered and lifted his head, finally finding the will to speak. "Thanks," he murmured. "For what you did…avenging me for what he did…thanks."

The professor ran a hand through the boy's hair, trying to soothe the tension that this memory had created in him. "It was only justice," he said. "After all, he hurt my cat, didn't he?"

Harry smiled, closing his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Severus continued. "I'll never raise a hand to you, and I wouldn't allow anyone else to do it. If I'm able, I'll not permit anyone to hurt you, full stop. That's a promise."

Whether or not Harry heard this last part of the professor's speech, the effect was the same. His head on Snape's chest, the boy fell asleep, a peaceful smile on his face, and he didn't even awaken when Snape lifted him gently in his arms to put him to bed.

***

The curtains were drawn, but that didn't keep Harry from realizing that the sun was already well up when he opened his eyes.

Images of the night before immediately filled his head. Hogwarts. The attack. Ron. Remus. Hagrid. Snape…

Had all that actually happened? At the thought of Remus and Hagrid, worry knotted his stomach, but it was Snape's words that stood out above all the rest.

It was probably selfish on his part, but… Had he really said what he'd said? Had he suggested being a family with him? Snape…of all people…but that was exactly what he'd been looking for, of course.

His Snape.

He buried his head in the pillow for an instant, a slight smile on his face. Yes, Remus was bad off at Hogwarts, and Hagrid had disappeared. No, the problems weren't going to magically disappear. But now it seemed as if something stood between him and his nightmares, or rather _someone_. An adult who was there to watch over him and take care of him. Protect him.

He stayed a minute more, cradled by this new and comforting feeling, before finally deciding to get up.

A shower later, he headed for the kitchen, where he found lunch already made and waiting for him. Snape was starting to know his tastes, it seemed. Impatient, he quickly consumed his meal, then took the steps down to the dungeon, four at a time.

He couldn't deny a certain apprehension; how was it going to be, finding himself in Snape's presence after the scene of last evening?

But the knot in his stomach relaxed when the wizard turned to greet him, a slight smile on his face. One truly had to know Snape to understand that he was smiling, he thought, so slight was the facial expression.

But Harry knew it. Or rather, he sensed it.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks, and you?"

The wizard nodded.

"Any news of Remus?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I spoke with Albus this morning, and Lupin hasn't awakened yet. He promised to alert us as soon as that's the case."

"I suppose it's not worth it for me to go see him while he's unconscious," Harry sighed. "And Hagrid?"

Severus shook his head. "Nothing new there. Lupin will no doubt be able to tell us more when he awakes."

"Could I stop by to see Remus today, even if he's not awake? I know it's idiotic, but I really need to see him," Harry explained.

"We're going to Hogwarts today anyway. I must stop by to see my Slytherins, and you have an apology to make to the Headmaster."

Harry felt the blood drain from his face. This was it…the behavior lecture.

"I don't know what came over me yesterday."

"Harry, I thought you'd finally accepted that Lucius' visions were nothing more than just that?" Severus began.

"I know it. Really. I just reacted badly when I thought that Remus… And you…. Listen, you can't say it's not true. It's Dumbledore who directs everyone."

"From that to calling him Voldemort, Harry…"

"I know, I know," he sighed. "I was hysterical, I think."

"At least you didn't find it necessary to destroy my laboratory like the Headmaster's office."

"I…no," he said pitifully.

"That time, Black had just died and your reaction seemed understandable, in light of the drama you'd just suffered through. I know you've just gone through some more than trying times, Harry, but you must truly realize that this type of behavior has no place in our circumstances. We're at war, and the world is dangerous. It serves no purpose to condemn Dumbledore. I'm not always in agreement with his choices either, but he does his best, that at least is certain."

"All the same," the boy murmured, "I'd prefer if he sent people I don't know to the front."

Severus came nearer and put a hand on Harry's chin to make him look up. "I'd also prefer for you not to have to face Voldemort. But certain things are inevitable. All that we can do is to prepare, the best that we can, and that's what the Headmaster is doing."

Harry nodded. "I'll apologize. I'm not sure I'll mean it, but I'll apologize."

Snape sighed. "That's a start. But I've never seen you so…emotional, Harry. Is it recent events that have made you this way?"

"I don't' know," the boy said nervously. "There're too many things going on, and I don't know what to think anymore. It's rather recent for me that you're the nice person in the story, and Dumbledore the bad one, you know."

"Things are not black and white. Albus is still the same person you've known and respected. Comparing him to Voldemort was a rather awful thing to say."

Harry shuddered. "That was unfair of me. I was just so afraid of…losing what I have. What I have left. I'm not even sure I know what I have to lose, really, but…"

A whoosh of green flames rose up in the fireplace, making Harry startle. An instant afterward, Dumbledore's head appeared, a smile on his face.

"Severus, Harry, the very ones I wanted to see!"

"Most likely, yes," Snape said dryly. "If that weren't the case, you chose the wrong fireplace."

"Ah, very true, evidently. Remus Lupin regained consciousness in the infirmary a few minutes ago. I thought you'd like to know. He's asking for Harry, of course," the professor said with a kind look for the boy.

Harry immediately rushed for the fireplace.

"Wait."

Severus' voice from behind seemed to unsettle him. Harry turned, his eyes pleading.

"We'll go," the professor said soothingly, "but I'd prefer that you transform, at least until we've arrived."

Harry made a face. "Give me a sign when I should transform back, all right? I want to talk to Remus, if possible."

Severus nodded, and a second later a black cat jumped to his shoulder, obviously content.

"It's becoming a habit, isn't it?" Snape asked as he looked at the cat, his eyebrow raised.

The animal blinked.

"I suppose I should get used to it. Hogwarts infirmary!" he announced, throwing a handful of Floo powder.

The infirmary was deserted, other than a bed surrounded by white curtains. Led by the Headmaster, they slipped soundlessly behind the partition.

It appeared that Madam Pomfrey'd had quite a bit to do for her patient: Remus' face and every visible part of his body were covered with bandages, leaving a glimpse of a pair of hazy eyes and a slight smile when Snape made his entrance, the cat on his shoulder.

"Harry, I presume?" the werewolf said weakly.

"No, Lupin, I always walk about with a black cat on my shoulder," the Potions master grumbled. A quick glance at Dumbledore confirmed that all was well, so he nudged the cat downward with a slight move of his shoulder.

Understanding the signal, Harry took his human form again, and hurried to Remus' bed, a smile on his face.

"Wasn't that great, Remus? Did you see?"

His former professor smiled a bit more. "You seem very gifted, Harry. But I confess I've not understood very well how you came about this new ability? It's a terribly long process…"

The boy quickly sought out Snape's eyes. What he read there confirmed his doubts: pointless to overload Remus with too much emotion just now.

"It's a long story," Harry simply said. "I'm sorry, I've not even asked how you are. You look awful," he confessed, his smile fading away.

"It's a good thing if you can see how I am underneath all of Poppy's dressings," Remus joked. "I'll be fine, Harry. I've been better, but I'll soon be on my feet, Madam Pomfrey assures me."

"But what put you in such a state? It was…the other werewolves, wasn't it?"

"More or less," Remus sighed. "There was a slight misunderstanding when we got to Hagrid's hut. What you must absolutely understand, Harry, is that you're not safe at Hogwarts, at least not as much as you should be. I want you to be on your guard constantly, never without your wand, and never go anywhere without at least one person with you."

"So it's true, then, they were coming for me?" Harry asked gloomily.

Remus hesitated slightly. "They were coming to look for you, yes. And to give a warning."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Remus nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry. From what I've heard, you did good work against him. I was a bit cut off from the news out there; they didn't trust me, but I believed he was for the moment incapable of harming anyone…on his own."

"So he sent someone in his place," the boy finished.

"A demonstration of strength on the first day of term, to bring you back if possible. I'm sorry, Professor," he said, addressing himself to Dumbledore. "I wasn't able to warn you ahead of time. I was being closely watched."

"I suspected as much, my boy. We would've liked to have contacted you earlier this summer, but it proved impossible to locate you. Harry's had a rather difficult summer, and your help would've been welcome."

Remus turned his worried eyes toward the boy. "Harry?"

"Oh, everything's fine now. And Professor Snape was there." Remus' skeptical expression made Harry smile. "I'll have plenty of things to tell you when you're better, but really, don't worry about me."

Remus looked up to Snape, before closing his eyes for a moment. "I'm anxious to hear it, Harry. But I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey's potions won't last much longer. I hope to see you again soon; you'll be in the castle anyway."

"Oh well, actually, not really. I've not returned to classes yet. I'm staying at Snape Manor right now."

"At…? Harry?" Remus was clearly fighting sleep, trying to seek an explanation for what he'd just heard.

"Oh, for god's sake," Severus grumbled, pulling a potion from his robes and handing it to Remus.

"Drink."

Without a word, the werewolf obeyed and seemed to regain his color.

"Thanks, Severus," he said softly.

An impatient sigh was his answer.

"Professor Lupin," Dumbledore finally intervened, "Severus found you unconscious in front of Hagrid's hut. He seems to have disappeared. Have you any idea of what could've happened to him?"

"Yes, Hagrid was kidnapped. It wasn't planned, at least to my knowledge. When we arrived on the spot, he tried to stop the wolves before they got into Hogwarts. They attacked him, of course. I tried to object, but they turned against me. I saw someone use a Portkey with Hagrid, but I don't know who it was, although I have a vague idea." Turning toward Snape, he added, "Thanks, Severus. I didn't know to whom I owed my rapid rescue. According to Poppy, my condition was critical."

The Potions master shrugged. "And who was responsible for this attack? The wolves and werewolves together, that was a novelty. I doubt Voldemort was in any shape to organize this charming surprise."

Remus' eyes clouded over. "Fenrir Greyback was among the leaders. Professor Dumbledore, might I speak to you privately?"

"Of course, my boy," the Headmaster replied. "But don't be uneasy about speaking in front of Severus. His spying days are over, and he no longer runs the risk of having confidential information squeezed out of him."

Once again, Remus looked up at Snape, troubled. "Congratulations, Severus. That's a relief." Then after hesitating, he continued, "Very well. Voldemort found himself a new right hand man, a bit before his setback with Harry. Someone in charge of coordinating attacks and…using his talents to conceive new tactics."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "Is this someone known?"

Remus' face twisted into a grimace. "Loki."

Intrigued, Harry glanced quickly at the two professors present. Only a glimmer of curiosity sparked in Snape's eyes as he stared thoughtfully at Remus, but Dumbledore seemed to have paled considerably, his shoulders stiffening all of a sudden.

"Remus, my boy…" Then, pulling himself together, he said, "Severus, I believe that Professor Slughorn wishes to meet with you about the Slytherins. He should be in his classroom at this hour, I assume."

The hint was undisguised, but Snape didn't dwell on it. "Indeed. Harry, if you'd transform again, it's time to go."

"Remus…" the boy said, trying to understand what had just happened right before his eyes. "I'll be back," he said at last. "I've so many things to tell you, really, as soon as you're better."

"I'm looking forward to hearing it," the werewolf replied with a smile. "Take care of yourself, Harry. Come back soon."

With one last smile, the teenager reluctantly transformed and jumped to the Potions master's shoulder. He'd definitely missed something in that last exchange, but he sensed that his presence had hindered it. Snape's as well, it would seem, who said goodbye to the two men with a nod, before heading for the infirmary door.

"We're going down to the dungeons," he murmured. "Stay calm, and don't transform back for any reason."

The cat dug its claws a bit deeper into the wizard's thick robes. He wasn't stupid enough to parade about in the Slytherin dungeons, looking like his actual self! And first off, who was this professor whom Dumbledore had mentioned? Probably the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he thought. He was curious to see what he might look like.

The trip to the dungeons seemed long and tedious, but they didn't come across any students in the corridors. At this hour, they were all most likely in class, Harry thought with a twinge in his chest. Ron and Hermione were probably somewhere close by with the other Gryffindors.

But as they went further down into the dungeons, he couldn't help but recognize the path they were taking: the one to the Potions classroom. What was this Slughorn doing in that dreaded room?

He held on tighter to the professor's black robes as they passed through the door and entered the Potions classroom. In front of them stood a pudgy little bald man, who came to greet them jovially.

"Severus! What a wonderful surprise! I wanted to meet with you about our Slytherins! But please, sit down, you're at home here, after all," he said with a little laugh.

"Yes, it would seem so," Snape said icily.

"You know I hesitated greatly over taking this position in the interim. It's a bit annoying, isn't it, after having been offered the full-time position? But I understand that the circumstances… Oh, but would this be our young friend on your shoulder?"

Given the professor's tenseness, Shadow understood that this was neither the time nor the place to confirm the little, eager-eyed man's suspicions.

"Perhaps," Snape replied carefully. "Might I deduce from this that you've definitely refused the Defense position?"

"Oh, I don't possess your courage," Slughorn answered. "I intend a long and happy retirement, which will take up again as soon as you've resumed your duties as Potions professor and Head of Slytherin. On that matter, I regret to inform you that our House is experiencing a bit of trouble, given the events of yesterday. It would no doubt be good for you to put in an appearance to confirm that you're still alive."

"Probably wise," Snape admitted. "Although I doubt the news of my death would be the cause for profound mourning amongst the students."

"It's rather serious, Severus," the little man continued. "I suspect they're plotting against you, waiting for your return. Your…defection wasn't well-received by the Death Eaters' children."

"What a surprise," Snape said sarcastically. "Ah well, they'll have to deal with it. And they'll also have to learn what's off limits, with myself as well as my cat. Starting immediately. The class hour will soon be over; summon the troops to the common room, would you?"

"Certainly," Slughorn said as he waved his wand. Then, as one, the two wizards headed for the Slytherin common room.

It hadn't changed much since his last visit, Harry noted, but as it filled with hostile-faced students dressed in green, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Did Snape know for sure what he was doing? One false move, and they were both going to find themselves haunting Hogwarts to the end of their days! Familiar gray eyes made him jump: Draco. So he was still there, and seeing the murderous expression he wore, he was definitely among the students who had it in for Snape.

When the room was full to overflowing, the professor crossed his arms on his chest, wand in hand, and silence fell, all eyes fastened on them. Perched on his shoulder, Shadow felt all of a sudden terribly vulnerable.

But when Snape finally began to speak, the wave of danger and pride he seemed to radiate quelled the cat's fears momentarily.

"I see you're all present. It would appear, according to what Madam Pomfrey's told me, that not one of you was wounded during the course of last evening's attack. I cannot say that surprises me, but I'm nevertheless relieved. You will certainly be happy to learn that Harry Potter came out of that invasion equally unscathed."

Murmuring could be heard throughout the room. Shadow sensed more than felt the wizard begin to smile slightly.

"I don't doubt that you're delighted by this news. In truth, that's for the best. Among the little details that will change this year, when I return as Head of this House, you will want to take note that I demand—and mark well this word—I _demand_ respect and protection for Mr. Potter from each one of you."

A collective gasp of surprise met his declaration.

"We are engaged in a war," he continued. "The time for pranking and House rivalries is over. Let one of you simply claim to want to pose a threat to Harry Potter, and it will be my pleasure to have you expelled from this school before the day is out. Those for whom these rules are not agreeable are free to leave the castle immediately."

A long silence stretched out after his words.

"On another matter…let it be clear that whatever your ambitions or feelings concerning myself, the slightest lack of respect or the least attempt to harm this cat will be severely punished. And by that I do not mean any punishment written in Hogwarts' rules. You'll have to deal with me and me alone. Have I made myself clear?"

The professor's drawling and menacing tone seemed to strike straight at the hearts of his students, who kept their mouths shut.

"I'll very shortly be resuming my duties," he went on. "As professor as well as Head of House. I'll continue to guide you, to protect you, to defend you if need be. None of that has changed. You'll find me available, as I've always been, and as much as your wish is to learn and progress, you will have all of my aid. And whatever pressures you might encounter…" His eyes swept over the crowd of students, stopping for an instant on Draco's pale face. "Know that only your motivations interest me. Know that there's always a way out. Always."

With this last sentence, which left more than one student perplexed, Snape took his leave, as dignified as ever, his robes swirling dangerously about his boots as Slughorn trotted along to keep up with him.

"Well, well," the little man said when they in the corridor, "that went rather well, I think. The message was certainly delivered, in any case."

"I dare hope so," Snape said thoughtfully. "I'm grateful for your willingness to see to my students during my absence, Professor. Do not hesitate to contact me in case there is a problem."

"When do you plan to return, Severus?"

"Soon. Soon. If you'll excuse me, Professor, I must meet with the Headmaster before I leave. Watch the Slytherins closely, and don't hesitate to make use of my personal stock of ingredients, if necessary. The key for the cupboard at the back is under the first drawer of my desk."

"Ah, I confess I'd thought to ask you for access to it. Thank you, Severus, and…take good care of our young hero," Slughorn said with a wink for the cat.

"I'll be certain to do so."

Turning on heel, the Potions master strode purposefully towards the Headmaster's office, the cat clinging firmly to his shoulder.

"Croquette!" he enunciated to the gargoyle at the opening to the stairway. Shadow almost choked; he definitely missed laughing in his cat form.

The sight of the Headmaster's office, though, was enough to quash his desire to laugh. The last time he'd come here… But he'd not really come here, of course. An illusion, an act… Snape must've felt that something was wrong, for a hand came up to lightly rest against his fur. The cat turned to meet the wizard's eyes. He blinked: yes, everything would be fine. He had to believe it.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching, but instead of the Headmaster, it was the familiar silhouette of McGonagall entering the office.

"Severus, how did your meeting with the Slytherins go?" she asked politely.

"As well as possible," Snape replied laconically.

"Tense, I assume," the witch said sympathetically. "It will pass, I'm certain, but it will take some time, and some… A cat?"

Her eyes began to twinkle with a new light.

Holding back a grumble, Snape moved his shoulder to signal to Shadow that he could transform back again. But instead of jumping to the floor, the cat only flattened itself a bit more on its perch, its heart about to beat out of its chest.

McGonagall. Here, again. He knew…but the knowledge was in vain. Everything was so similar, and so…

"This cat needs some peace and quiet," Snape intervened. "Is Albus available, Minerva?"

"I'm afraid not. He shut himself in his rooms when he came back from the infirmary, and instructed me to tell you that he'll be in touch with you later in the day."

"I see. In that case, I'll make use of the office Floo to return home, if that's not inconvenient."

"Wait, Severus!" the Head of Gryffindor said as the professor went for the grate. "Is this really Harry? Would it be possible to..?"

"I'm sorry, Minerva, we must go. I'm sure you'll have an opportunity to see Harry very soon. Good day, and tell Albus to be sure to contact me posthaste."

"Of course," the witch said regretfully. "Take care of yourself, Severus. And…"

"Of Potter, I know. Goodbye, Minerva."

And in a flash of green flames, he disappeared from the office, the cat on his shoulder.

They'd scarcely set foot in the laboratory at Snape Manor when Shadow jumped to the floor, soon replaced by a restless teenager who fell gracelessly into his armchair.

"Harry," Snape began, "to what do we owe that bout of panic?"

"I'm sorry," he said mechanically. "It was…too much."

"Hmmm," the professor said thoughtfully. "Indeed, perhaps we pushed things a bit too far. Did seeing Professor McGonagall bring back bad memories?"

"Not really memories. You know. But it was…the same place, the same person. I panicked."

"Understandable," Snape sighed. He took a phial from the table and held it out to the boy. "Drink. This will help you."

Harry obeyed without a protest. "What's that for?" he asked.

"You have a fever," Snape simply noted.

"Oh." Harry took a deep breath. "It was…awful, I think. Do you think Remus will recover?"

"Without a doubt. He seemed in rather good form to me, for someone who was attacked only last night by a pack of wolves."

"Do you know this Loki they were talking about?" Harry asked.

Snape looked at him hesitantly for a second before he answered, "No, but I hope Albus will tell me more this evening."

"There was something off," Harry went on. "Dumbledore looked strange when Remus mentioned Loki, and he didn't seem to want to take about it in front of you."

Snape's face clouded over slightly. "Indeed. Which means that you probably aren't supposed to investigate any further either."

"Hmmm," Harry said, running the pictures through his head. "It's odd how I'm more in tune to movements and expressions when I'm in my other form. By the way, who was that professor? Stuborn or something?"

"Slughorn," Snape corrected. "Horace Slughorn. Former Potions professor and Head of Slytherin. I took up his position when he retired. He's replacing me during my absence."

"But he was talking about a year-long position that he didn't get? As Potions professor?"

Harry saw Snape tense suddenly. Clearly, he'd touched a sensitive spot.

"Slughorn was actually supposed to take the Potions position this year, but Dumbledore withdrew his offer when it turned out I'd definitely be continuing on."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "I don't understand. You were planning to resign?"

"Solely from that position, and only for a year," the professor said, refusing to meet his eyes.

"But what were you planning to do instead?"

"Well, Mr. Potter, do you think my only talent in life is the mastery of potions? Once again, your confidence flatters me," Snape sneered.

"Stop that!" Harry cried, jumping up from his chair.

"Once again, you're giving in to your deplorable tendency for emotion and anger, Potter."

"You know very well what I'm talking about, and don't call me that. So, answer me—what were you supposed to do besides teaching Potions?"

"I don't like your tone, _Harry,_ and I don't recall having agreed that I have to answer to you, concerning my professional affairs."

"All right," the boy sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have got worked up. But will you answer me, please?"

Snape seemed to hesitate for a moment, before finally giving in. "I was supposed to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

"Supposed to? Why not anymore? You've always wanted that position."

Harry saw Snape tense his jaw, his eyes still avoiding Harry's.

"My…abilities are now no longer up to the demands of the position. I had to withdraw, but Slughorn didn't want to make a switch; he preferred to give up teaching."

"Your abilities," Harry murmured. "You mean your powers?"

Once again, he saw Snape's jaw clench. "Yes, I mean my powers."

"Merlin," the boy said as he realized. "It's because of me; you couldn't take the position because of what you did for me."

"And here's exactly what I wanted to avoid," the professor groaned. "Harry, when will you stop wanting to take responsibility for all the wrongs in the world? Not that my incapacity is a good thing, in all honesty, but it's at most a slight inconvenience—temporary, what's more. Nothing will prevent me from applying again next year, if I so desire."

But the boy was staring at him, his eyes so filled with guilt that the professor sighed with exasperation at the sight of them. "Harry, it's of no importance at all."

"It is," the boy murmured. "But in a sense…I'm happy you can't do it. You were forgetting about the curse on that position."

"I'm not forgetting it," Snape replied. "Albus and I were in agreement that I'd resume my position as Potions master at the start of the next year."

"And you were still ready to take the risk. To get yourself killed," the boy answered obstinately.

"It seems to me that we've already had this conversation," Severus sighed.

"But you never stop. You said that about me one day—that I jump headfirst into every single problem. But you're doing exactly the same thing! How can I depend on you when you're putting yourself in danger all the time?"

"It's a question of how you see things. I could be killed this evening by a broken tree limb, just as I could live long enough to replace Albus and his damnable white beard. Harry, I cannot, and I have no intention, of living shut away in the dungeons so as to avoid all danger, even if the idea is tempting. You saw the Slytherins' reaction a while ago. Living at Hogwarts is itself a test of constant vigilance, for you as well as for myself. But I'm taking the risk, Harry, and it costs me more to let you go there than to return there myself. It's simply a question of priorities, I suppose. To allow those you hold dear to live their lives…in the same way that giving up that position was a worthwhile price to pay for what the loss of my powers gave me in return."

If Harry'd thought he'd been surprised before, this last declaration left him literally speechless. _To allow those you hold dear to live their lives. _Had Snape just said that? In front of him? Speaking…of him? He probably shouldn't have been so stunned, after what they'd lived through recently, but…

"You really meant what you said last evening, didn't you?" he suddenly asked.

"I always mean what I say, Potter," Snape said quietly.

"Don't call me… The Slytherins, earlier. They knew who I was?"

"Without a doubt. And yes, I made a point of being seen with Harry Potter, in the Slytherin common room, in front of my entire House."

"And you threatened to expel them if they attacked me," Harry added.

"I doubt that sort of grandiose declaration will stop someone who is truly motivated, but let's hope it will give pause for thought to those who think they have something to prove."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, Mr. Potter," Snape answered with a slight smile.

Harry smiled weakly. "It's not even noon yet, and I'm dead on my feet. I really have to start exercising again before the start of Quidditch."

"It's not physical fatigue," Snape pointed out. "Besides, you really do have a fever, so it's senseless to push yourself today. Eating would do you the most good, on the other hand."

"I'll take care of the meal," Harry sighed as he stood. "That'll clear my head. Do you think…" He shook his head. "Would a pizza be all right? Homemade, obviously."

"Hmmm," the professor replied, seeming unconvinced. "Without anchovies, in that case."

"Without anchovies," the boy repeated with a slight smile. "One deluxe pizza, coming up!"

He closed the door behind him, leaving the Potions master shaking his head, disconcerted. This was what he got for taking charge of a teenager raised by Muggles; he only had himself to blame. But it this could make Harry happy, then he supposed a pizza would do.

He'd scarcely had time to start up his cauldrons again, when the characteristic sound of a Floo being activated made him turn around.

"Severus, is Harry with you?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes searching the room.

"He's gone up to fix something to eat. Should I call him?"

"Not at all." The Headmaster took a step forward and entered the room.

"Has Lupin finally succeeded in making himself useful?" Snape asked dryly.

"Severus, it's more than past time to set aside your rivalries," Dumbledore reprimanded, his tone sharper than what the Potions master was accustomed to.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Lupin getting himself half-killed by his own kind certainly is not going to attract my sympathy. The sentiment seemed to me to be entirely mutual, by the way."

"Severus," the Headmaster went on tiredly, "it wasn't from you that Remus wished to hide certain elements concerning his return. Matters are more worrisome than they appear."

"This infamous Loki, I presume," Snape drawled. "Would Lupin have something to hide from his dear Harry?"

He watched the Headmaster's eyes glitter.

"I suppose that Harry's presence isn't going to do anything to calm your rivalries. But you're right. Remus doesn't want Harry to get wind of certain information. Promise me that this conversation and the information I confide to you will not reach his ears."

Snape studied the old man for a long moment before nodding. "It will remain confidential as much as possible; I can't promise you anything more. Hiding information from the boy has only complicated matters, instead of simplifying them in the past. I do not condone this strategy, Albus."

"Things are different this time. It's about Loki…and Remus."

"I would've suspected as much. I heard the Dark Lord speak this name several times, but I confess to not knowing anything more. It didn't seem very interesting to me from a strategic perspective."

"The facts have changed," the Headmaster sighed. "And the first thing you must know, Severus, is that I actually managed to contact Remus Lupin after we'd discovered Shadow's identity, just a month ago. I asked him to return as soon as possible to help Harry…but he refused."

A spark of interest kindled in the Potions master's eyes as he settled comfortably into one of the armchairs, a weak smile on his face. "You have my undivided attention."

-------

_Again, a lot of thanks to Raewhit for the translation! Next one will be longer- in time and length, poor Raewhit ;-)_


	29. Chapter 29 Don't Tell

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Don't Tell**

When Harry reappeared a half-hour later, markedly upset and carrying a half-charred pizza, he didn't notice the professor's distractedness right away.

"Sorry, I think it's overdone," he said with a contrite smile.

Severus lifted an ironic eyebrow, waiting for the rest of it.

"But not as much as the first three," the boy confessed at last. "I'm sorry, but until I find a way to control the strength of my spells, I'm going to have to stick to mixed salads. I've become the worst cook in England." Frustrated, he threw the pizza onto the table.

"If this one's an improvement, it's because you're beginning to master your powers. No matter how many attempts this took, practice as long as you like; but don't dwell on the failure. Later, we'll see if you feel up to a few exercises," Snape said soothingly.

Then, pointing his wand at the pizza, he murmured several incantations to make their meal look more appetizing.

"Oh," Harry said, slightly disappointed. "If I'd known that before…. Could you teach me that?"

"First, a good meal. I believe we agreed not to eat down here except in special circumstances?" Snape said sternly.

"You didn't come up, so I thought you wanted me to bring the meal down," Harry said, puzzled.

Hmmm. Perhaps the conversation with Dumbledore had lasted longer than expected…unless he'd been lost in his thoughts after the revelations the old man had set forth. Probably the latter, yes. Snape shook his head.

"No matter. So cut this thing, so I can objectively critique your cooking."

"You're really sure you want to taste it?" Harry grumbled. "I mean…made with Voldemort's powers, I'm not certain that's a good idea."

"Your powers aren't going to poison the food, Harry. That's ridiculous. Now, the way you _use _the spells might make that possible, but not the spells themselves." And to prove his point, he bit into his slice with conviction, chewing deliberately before swallowing.

"Hmmm. All right with you if I wait five minutes and see if you drop over dead before I try it?"

"That's remarkably sarcastic for you," the professor said, laying his pizza back on the plate.

"I wonder where I could've learnt that," Harry murmured.

Again, Snape only raised an eyebrow.

"Oh all right. I suppose you know what you're doing," the boy grumbled as he attacked the pizza.

"Indeed."

But perhaps more than Harry would've thought.

The pizza actually wasn't bad, but eating with his hands wasn't one of Snape's favorite habits. Harry didn't seem to have even realized that it was possible to eat the thing with utensils, and so had neglected to bring them.

He was really becoming too indulgent with the boy, Severus thought, but he didn't want to disappoint him by making utensils appear. Harry was already upset enough by his new difficulties.

And after what he'd just learnt, the Potions master was strongly convinced that they were going to have to start training as quickly as possible to master these powers. It was impossible to send Harry back to Hogwarts under these conditions; it would be dangerous for him and the other students, especially in Potions class. Albus was in agreement with him, that they should try to keep these new abilities a secret as long as possible. With a bit of luck that'd been lacking up until now, Voldemort wouldn't have realized the magnitude of his error.

But Severus doubted it, taking into account the dark wizard's latest exploits, with Loki in the front line.

"Are you all right?"

Snape looked up, realizing he'd been staring into space for several minutes. "Eat," he ordered in the guise of an answer. "Have you taken your potions?"

"Yes, and you?" the boy retorted.

Snape shot him a dark look. "I don't think that's any of your affair."

"And me, I think it is," Harry answered back.

"Let me rephrase that: it's absolutely none of your affair," Snape said dryly.

Annoyed, Harry sighed. "You have the right to worry about me, so why not the opposite? That's not how it works. Anyway, not after what I've come to understand."

The word 'family' didn't cross his lips, but his reproachful look was enough. Snape's features relaxed noticeably. "I'm an adult, Harry, and what's more, a Potions master. I know what I have to do and I do it."

"That doesn't keep me from asking."

It was Snape's turn to sigh. "Very well. Yes, I took them. I've no intention of taking the slightest risk. Is that sufficient?"

"Thanks," the boy answered as he lowered his eyes. He played with his pizza slice for a moment, thinking desperately of how to change the subject. "Do you think I could fly a bit this afternoon?"

Snape considered him for a moment. "If you feel up to it, I don't see why not."

"I know there're more important things," Harry told him apologetically, "but I really need to unwind."

"It's an excellent way to empty your mind; I don't see anything wrong with it. Anyway, you've earned a bit of time off. Remind me to show you the game room later."

"Game room?" Harry asked with interest. "Here?"

"Yes," Snape confirmed. "Upstairs. You'll find billiards, chess, that sort of thing."

"I'd almost forgotten there was an upstairs," the boy murmured. "Do you use it sometimes?"

Snape grimaced. "No."

Sensing that the time for questions had passed, Harry turned back to his pizza. No, really, no matter how he looked at it, it didn't inspire confidence…and cold, it was even less appetizing.

Snape caught his look and cast a series of incantations. A few instants later, a perfectly roasted chicken landed on the table, surrounded by potatoes, and giving off an irresistible smell.

Harry felt his mouth begin to water as the professor calmly carved the meat, after making two plates and assorted silverware appear.

But a second later, it was a famished black cat that leapt onto the table to seize a chicken thigh, then fled to beneath a cupboard in a flurry of fur.

Snape sat with his mouth hanging open, the knife in midair.

"Harry?"

For a second, he thought nothing would happen. Then he saw the head of a black cat peep out from its hiding place, the chicken thigh still between its teeth; the cat returned sheepishly to the table.

Letting go of the bone regretfully, the cat transformed back into a crestfallen teenager.

"Enlighten me," the professor began. "Should I consider that as a return to animal instinct, or a new example of your deplorable table manners?"

"I can't believe I did that," Harry moaned as he sat, floored.

"You're not the only one. A slight analysis is in order. What provoked this transformation, Harry?"

"I…the smell, I think. The meat. It made me hungry, and I don't know…I've never done that before!"

"Indeed, but this reaction seems similar to the one that drove you to attack Mr. Weasley yesterday, in your cat form," Snape pointed out.

"I didn't think of that ahead of time either. It just came on like that…. Do you think it's a problem? I mean, a serious one?"

Severus thought for a moment. "Lack of control is always a problem. However, I dare hope this one is only temporary."

"I'll have to do some trial runs. I have to put myself in some situations where I could be surprised and where—"

"Start by working on your transformations," Snape cut him off. "That still seems to me to be the best way of mastering your forms; we have not put enough time into that lately."

"With all that's happened, and Remus…Remus! I have to talk to him about it; he'll certainly know what to do," Harry exclaimed. It seemed as if the Potions master's face suddenly clouded over, but he didn't answer.

"Start by eating your meal. From a plate, if possible."

"Sorry about that. I'll try to, er, restrain my instincts in the future," the boy stammered.

"I see it wasn't the pizza that got you all worked up. Next time, I'll know how to get you to transform into the cat in spite of yourself."

"Yes," Harry said, "always keep a chicken on hand to face Voldemort. Good thing to know."

The two wizards studied each other, with a look of challenge that a casual observer might've taken for complicity.

Feeling his appetite return, Harry enthusiastically started in on his chicken with his fork. Still, there was something about the act of tearing the meat into pieces with little pointed fangs that made the fact of being a cat exciting. He wondered idly if Sirius had felt the same thing in his dog form…and immediately lost his appetite.

Snape saw the young man suddenly set down his fork, his expression in stark contrast to his eagerness of just a moment ago.

"The chicken's not to your taste?" he asked.

"That's not it. Just the opposite. It's just…sorry, Professor, I think I'm not all that hungry, actually. Would it bother you if I go take a turn in the park?

Snape frowned. "I insist that you at least finish your plate. I don't care about your table manners when we're here, but you need to regain your strength, and a complete meal is necessary for that. Eat."

Harry pressed his lips together, and picked at the food on his plate for a moment, trying to summon the courage to take a mouthful. Unsuccessfully. His stomach had balled up at the thought of Sirius, and didn't seem about to let anything pass through.

"Honestly, Professor, if I eat something, it's not going to stay down. I don't think that'll be very helpful."

Severus set down his fork, clearly irritated. "A few minutes ago, you were sufficiently hungry so that you transformed into the cat and stole a chicken thigh from the table. An explanation for this sudden reversal of appetite?"

Harry looked for a moment at the man he'd come to appreciate, and who was waiting for his answer, noticeably concerned. He would've liked to be able to explain it to him…but telling Severus how much Harry missed his childhood enemy? That thinking of Sirius again upset him enough to steal away his appetite, when he knew perfectly well that the two wizards had hated each other?

No, that definitely wasn't a good idea. At best, Severus would say a few awkward and hypocritical words, at worst, he'd be angry.

It was truly the last thing Harry needed just now. So, he shook his head, refusing to meet the professor's eyes. "Could I make do with a potion?"

"On an empty stomach, no." Snape thought for an instant. "Transform, Harry. Whatever it is that's bothering you, it upsets you less in your animal form. So take this damned chicken thigh and go eat it outside, like the alley cat you are."

It wasn't a bad idea. He gave the professor a wan smile before changing into the cat and grabbing the bone on the floor. The door leading to the park opened, and the cat dashed up the steps without a backwards glance.

The wind! Finally! Intoxicated by the feel of the breeze in his fur, Shadow took off at top speed though the high grass, avoiding sticks and stones, to finally jump with a single leap to the highest branch of a tree, the chicken thigh still between his fangs.

Ah, satisfaction! The view was unobstructed, the sun warm on his fur, and the chicken had never tasted so good. And Sirius…was a faraway memory. He felt his heart constrict confusedly, but refused to dwell on the thought. He had things to do. Powers to master. People to save. And maybe even a family to work on now…

Vaguely ill at ease, Shadow looked toward the Manor. From here he could clearly see the upper storey. He'd not paid it any attention when he'd been flying the other day, but most of the shutters had been closed, obviously for a long time; ivy had grown up onto the wooden doors, with the exception, though, of two dusty windows that seemed to look out from the same room. Green curtains hid the interior, but the cat thought it could see the outlines of a wardrobe and a bed. Nothing surprising, really, but why was this room the only one whose windows were unshuttered? Did Snape use it, contrary to what he'd claimed? Or someone else? Still, Snape didn't seem to be inclined to receive guests…

Intrigued, the cat finished devouring its trophy as he watched the house. It seemed fairly austere in design, and rather majestic as well. Had Severus himself drawn up the plans? Had he bought it for its imposing and isolated features? Had he wanted to impress the other Death Eaters? The Manor didn't cease to intrigue him, but curiously, Harry dreaded asking the Potions master questions. One day…later.

Full at last, Shadow finally decided to come down from his perch. Exercise, Snape had said. When he was at the bottom of the tree, he retook his human form and glanced around. Hmmm, the way in which he saw things was really different when he changed form, so some time to adjust was in order. But he wouldn't have the luxury of this time when he was in danger, and that was one thing he had to consider from now on.

He began to run quickly across the lawn, focused, before transforming back to the cat in mid-stride.

Good, he'd not needed to think this time. A bit more difficult, perhaps…he retook his usual form, before taking off at a run for the tree. He waited until the very last second before throwing himself at the trunk, all of his claws out, his heart racing. Yes, that worked very well. So why couldn't he simply control his changes each and every time?

It wasn't as if he'd grown up in this form. By Merlin, why did he revert to it so often?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a movement near the Manor. Snape had apparently come out to watch him. Jumping down from his branch, Harry retook his human form to join him.

"I made a few tries. I have no trouble changing at will, but it's a bit strange, don't you think? It wasn't that easy before. I really don't know how to explain it."

Snape considered him thoughtfully for an instant. "Could you try to switch from one form to the other as quickly as possible, and continue for as long as you can? Until you no longer feel comfortable, or become tired, if possible."

Harry nodded, and threw himself into a series of rapid transformations. He'd already done this exercise once in the dungeon, and expected to quickly run out of energy…but five minutes later, it was Snape who stopped him.

"That's enough."

Harry froze in his human form, his eyes questioning. "I'm not tired; on the contrary, I've lost count along the way. It was fast enough, wasn't it?"

"Rather, yes. You were at thirty-four changes."

"Oh. A good many, I think. The last time I only did…" He stopped. "Am I really supposed to progress this quickly?"

Snape slowly shook his head. "Your level of magic has increased considerably, and your endurance along with it. It's a good thing, but I suspect your unexpected transformations are linked to this greatly enhanced flow of magic."

"Could you try to remember that I'm not Hermione, please? You're trying to tell me that Voldemort's powers also affect Shadow?" Harry asked, perturbed.

"They affect your transformations," Snape corrected. "All of your magic is affected by it, Harry, which is normal. You don't have Voldemort's powers on one side, and your own on the other."

"I'm not sure I like that," the boy confessed. "Do you think it's just a question of training?"

"Largely." Then when the boy looked worried, he added, "It's not as if anyone's ever stolen the Dark Lord's powers before you, Harry. We'll have to study the matter, and remain cautious."

"Could I start now? Training? I feel in top form."

"Didn't you want to fly a bit first?" Snape asked.

Harry made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Not now. Running in Shadow's skin is almost the same thing. How do you want me to start?"

Severus motioned with his chin for them to head for the clearing. "List for me a few spells you could use."

"Hmmm…maybe simple spells to start, like _Accio_ or _Lumos…_or something a bit more offensive, like a _Stupefy_, but I'll need a target that moves."

"That shouldn't be a problem. Anything else?"

"_Incendio? Confringo?"_

"For the last one, I'd like for you to wait to be surer of your abilities. _Accio_ seems to definitely be a good place to begin."

"And an _Inpedimenta?_" Harry asked.

Snape nodded, obviously satisfied. Harry couldn't help but feel a burst of pride. He'd passed the first part of the test.

When they finally stopped at their usual training place, Harry felt surer of himself than he had in days. Raising his wand, he pointed at empty space, but a hand shot out immediately and rested on his own to make him lower his arm.

"Above all else," Snape began, "think about what you want to produce. Visualize the effect and the power you want to put into your spell. Feel your magic and direct it."

Harry nodded. _"Lumos."_

Severus opened his mouth to point out to the boy that a _Lumos_ in broad daylight would hardly have an effect, but he was quickly stopped by the blinding light pulsing from the wand.

"Wow," Harry said, "I suppose that'd be more spectacular at night, but did you see that?"

Yes, he'd seen it. Even with the summer sun at its highest, the difference in intensity hadn't been difficult to see. What now illuminated the clearing had an unnatural quality that made the grass and foliage almost transparent.

"Did you start with a moderate spell?" Snape finally asked.

"Yes. Do you want me to try again with it stronger?"

"Focus yourself first. Stay in control of your powers."

Harry knew what he meant. Doing magic had always been exciting, but this sort of electricity that ran through his body to center in his arm, which wanted to come out of him, this feeling of power… It was exhilarating, truly exhilarating.

Tightening his fingers on his wand again, he increased the flow of magic. "_Lumos!"_

For a second, he had to close his eyes, with his arm across his face. When he opened them again, he thought for an instant that his vision was clouded by the blinding light surrounding him. Could her really see _through_ that tree? His eyes widened as his mouth hung open.

Behind him, Snape told him quickly, "Harry, end the spell!"

Shaking himself from his stupor, slightly frightened, he cried out, "_Nox!"_

The light disappeared, and once again Harry thought his eyes were playing a trick on him. The sunlight should've been brighter, shouldn't it have? One look at Snape confirmed that something wasn't right.

"Severus?"

The professor turned his head to him. "Look toward the Manor."

Harry obeyed. Beyond the clearing, the afternoon sun seemed to still be as strong. All around them, on the other hand…

"It's almost like it's night," Harry choked out. "I only cast a _Nox_ to extinguish my wand; I don't understand."

"_Finite Incantatem," _Snape simply said.

Harry nodded, then raised his wand again. "_Finite Incantatem!"_

To his great relief, the light became immediately normal again, just as it'd been around the clearing. Simple sunlight. Lowering his wand, he watched Snape as he bent over to pick up something. Intrigued, Harry drew closer, but it was only a simple blade of grass that the professor was examining, as if it were some new specimen.

Whatever he was looking at so closely, there was something strange about the plant, maybe in its color, or…

"Merlin, that's not…?"

Snape turned to him and lifted the blade of grass toward the sky. It was slight, certainly, but undeniable: it'd taken on a more translucent texture, letting the sun's rays pass straight through it. Harry could almost see the magic moving inside its cells.

"It would appear that I underestimated the power of your simplest spells," Severus only said. "We're going to have to think of all possibilities. Your level of power seems to give the incantations a new dimension."

"Will it stay that way?" Harry asked, unable to look away from the blade of grass.

"No, it's already starting to return to its normal color. It's…at the least, impressive."

Harry didn't know if he should feel flattered or uncomfortable. "Do you want me to try something more…offensive?" he asked.

"That's up to you. Do you feel able?"

He nodded. That was the actual goal, after all…testing his limits. "A _Stupefy_ shouldn't do too much damage, I suppose. Only need to know what to use it on."

"That won't be a problem," Snape stated. "Ready yourself. _Cave Canem!"_

A large, ferocious-looking ghost of a dog appeared from the end of his wand like a Patronus, and began to skulk in circles around them, clearing looking for something to attack.

Harry saw a brief vision of Padfoot, but no, there was nothing about this dog that was friendly or real. After a quick glance at Snape, he raised his wand. "_Stupefy!"_

The watchdog froze in full-stride, but didn't fall to the ground as Harry expected. It seemed…petrified, Harry thought, as he drew near to see it more closely. Snape was there ahead of him, tapping the animal with his fingertips. Its hair seemed strangely hard and…shiny.

"Frozen," Snape said laconically.

Harry reached out then, refusing to believe it. He scratched the hair, loosening some flakes of frost. The dog was well and good fixed in place by a weight of ice.

"Since when does a _Stupefy_ freeze the target?" he asked incredulously.

"To my knowledge, this is the first," Snape answered. "Dreadfully effective, without a doubt, although potentially very dangerous on a living being. I wonder what a Petrificus—" He was interrupted by a faint ringing filling the air in the clearing.

Harry was instantly on his guard, ready to face any possible assailants, but Snape didn't seem otherwise perturbed.

"That old magpie," Snape grumbled. "I didn't expect her so soon. She couldn't resist, evidently."

"What's going on?" Harry asked sharply.

"We have guests," Snape explained. "But before we return to the Manor, I'd like you to vanish this specter."

"A…specter?" Harry asked, looking at the dog in consternation.

"In a manner of speaking. It's rather close to a Patronus, actually. We'll talk about it later. Suffice it to say that it's much more difficult—not to mention impossible—to cast effective spells on these sorts of creatures. Your performance is admirable, Harry. Now, if you would…"

The boy raised his wand, vaguely annoyed. He didn't really deserve these compliments, and he'd certainly not tried for this result. He shook his head to clear his mind.

_"Evanesco."_

He probably should've paid more attention to what he was doing, for the dog did disappear, as well as a large part of the forest behind him, digging a bigger hole in the clearing. He stood, open-mouthed, for a moment.

"I…I'm sorry, I was aiming for the dog…I think," he stammered.

At his side, a slightly pale Snape observed the hole without a word.

"You controlled your power?" he asked.

"Not really," Harry confessed. "I just wanted to get rid of the dog. Do you want me to try again?"

But Snape shook his head. "Not for now. But we'll come back to it. There're be a great deal of work to do for you to be able to control your powers without danger. This session, however, has been most instructive." With a wave of his hand, he motioned for Harry to head for the Manor, and the two wizards took off in silence, lost in their thoughts.'''

"Where was that noise coming from?" Harry asked at last.

"It's an alarm that warns me when a guest arrives by the Floo."

"Oh. You were waiting for someone?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Evidently," Snape replied. "But it's a visitor for you."

"Me? Honestly, Professor, I don't really want a visitor right now."

"Do this to please me; give them a cordial welcome, as much as you can," Snape said gently.

Harry turned to him, searching his eyes for a hint of duplicity or manipulation. But all he met were the black and, yes, kind eyes of the professor. It was truly a request and not an order or attempt to maneuver him.

He swallowed hard. Why was it always these little details that touched him the most?

"All right."

Automatically, he went to Snape, whose eyes sparked suddenly when he heard Harry's answer.

Severus must've read his mind, because the instant afterward, he'd casually draped an arm around the boy's shoulders, just like that day at the Weasleys. And oh, Merlin, it felt good.

Just a summer afternoon, just someone who was proud of him and who cared about him enough to make this simple gesture. It was probably what James would've done, if he'd lived, but he'd not known James, had he? And it was Severus who was here for him now, Severus whom he knew well enough to appreciate that he wasn't adept at demonstrations of affection, Severus whom he'd come to respect and admire.

Yes, it was definitely one of those glorious moments he'd have liked to be able to hoard in a bottle and relive over and over.

He was so affected by the moment that he didn't see the figure watching them from in front of the Manor at the door to the laboratory, until the very last moment. A small figure, really, but as soon as he identified it, Harry sensed Shadow within in him spit in its direction. A cat! A cat on his territory!

But Snape didn't seem surprised by the intrusion, and briefly squeezed his shoulder before letting him go. A few feet from the animal, Harry realized there was something familiar in the markings of its fur.

"We weren't expecting you so soon, Minerva," Snape said.

Harry stiffened. McGonagall? Obviously, he should've recognized the circles around the eyes, but what was the Head of Gryffindor doing here at Snape Manor?

The cat blinked at the Potions master, before shifting its golden eyes toward Harry.

Ill at ease, the boy turned to Severus. "Professor, I'm not sure I understand."

"Professor McGonagall has come here to give you some lessons on…well, on mastering your cat form, I assume? If you have questions about your transformations, Harry, she would probably be the best one to ask. Despite her definite resemblance to a shabby old rug, Professor McGonagall is nevertheless the only living, registered Animagus."

The cat in front of them let out furious growl at the Potions master, before walking haughtily toward Harry, its tail held high.

The boy couldn't help but smile. This was _so_ McGonagall. Yes, so McGonagall. His smile disappeared. Severus knew that he didn't want to see her. But when Harry turned to him, the professor only graced him with a confident smile, his head slightly tilted, as he shrugged and motioned toward the cat with his chin.

_'It's only an old cat. An old rug. She can't do anything to you.'_

Harry understood the message, and nodded. It was true; in this form, the witch was decidedly less intimidating, and Harry was truly curious to see what it would be like to face another Animagus in his cat form.

He shot Severus one last look. '_Don't leave me, all right?'_

The wizard narrowed his eyes imperceptibly, so Harry took a deep breath. A second later, Shadow stood facing the other cat, his heart racing.

And now?

"Perfect. If you don't find it inconvenient, I'll leave the two of you to your feline activities and take care of my herbs. By the way, Minerva, Potter hasn't finished his flea treatment. You're forewarned."

Turning on heel, he headed for the patch of ground where, he claimed, two months out of the year, to grow a few medicinal plants. A totally futile preoccupation that didn't even fool himself, but it was out of the question that he be caught cat-sitting, especially for Potter and Minerva McGonagall.

Potter…Harry, he corrected himself. That the old harpy was there wouldn't change a thing. The boy was perhaps a Gryffindor and an Animagus, but that she'd think for a moment that she'd have the upper hand over him when they returned to Hogwarts… After all, she'd proven during Potter's five years in her House that she was completely incompetent when it came to looking after him.

And it wasn't as if the boy trusted her. He held back a slight smile. No, he shouldn't think that way. It'd been his idea for Minerva to come to the Manor in her cat form to meet Harry on his own territory. It was not an option for the boy to allow Lucius' torturing to impact relationships with the people he cared for. And whether he liked it or not, Harry cared for McGonagall. It was rather logical, after all. Minerva had always favored and overprotected her dear Gryffindors. He shook his head.

Perhaps. But she'd let Harry slip through the cracks. He himself wouldn't make the same mistake.

He glanced discreetly over his shoulder. The two cats seemed to be getting on. He shrugged, as if to deny the slight tug at his heartstrings he felt at the sight of them. He certainly wasn't going to start being jealous of an old mangy cat who probably had more fleas than his own cat.

Truly, it would've been better if he'd sprayed McGonagall with the product instead of telling her to take care of Shadow.

This time, he allowed himself a slight smile. Yes, the there was something definitely delightful about the idea. One day, perhaps….

The first thing Harry was aware of when he took his Animagus form was that McGonagall had the same scent as a cat as she did as a witch. A slight aroma of chalk, of violet perfume, and her own cat fur. The odor was more marked to Shadow's keen sense of smell, and there was something definitely reassuring about it.

The McGonagall who'd attacked him in Dumbledore's office hadn't smelled like this. It was probably the least of his worries just then, and she was too far away anyway, but he knew it confusedly. This old cat in front of him was neither going to attack him nor steal away his territory.

The golden eyes blinked. 'Pretty markings, Harry.'

'Shadow.'

'Shadow.' The other cat nodded.

'I can understand you?'

'A little. Not as much as in your human form, but it'll be enough.'

Shadow flicked his ears, troubled. He could communicate with McGonagall, but the thoughts he was deciphering seemed vaguer and not as easy to understand as if she'd spoken. Still, it was much more than he could express to Severus while in this form.

The other cat trotted away into the grass, and Shadow quickly followed it.

'Where are you going?'

'I'm visiting,' the tabby replied.

'This is my home!' Shadow protested, feeling his instincts coming to the forefront. McGonagall turned her head to look at him with eyes sparkling with humor.

'Your territory?'

'Yes. With Severus.'

It was the female cat's turn to be disconcerted. But only for a moment. "So, show me what you know how to do."

Spurred on, Shadow took off at a gallop across the lawn, _his_ lawn, before streaking in the flash of a second to the top of a tree, then rushing down almost as quickly. Let the old witch try _that_! But McGonagall waited for him at the foot of the tree, barely impressed.

'That's all? What else?'

It seemed to him that the Animagus had smiled. Swishing her tail, the tabby cat crouched down in the grass, on the lookout. Shadow followed her with his eyes, astounded, until he noticed what had captivated McGonagall's attention. With a leap, the cat pounced on a field mouse, trapped it between her teeth, and dropped it triumphantly between Shadow's paws.

The rodent fled, squeaking in terror, right from under the black cat's bemused eyes.

'Well?' McGonagall asked impatiently.

'I've never tried that…but I can catch things that fly. Severus trained me.'

The tabby batted its tail, clearly annoyed. 'Severus knows nothing about cats. Find some other prey. Smell. Listen.'

That still seemed like what Snape had told him to do. Shadow concentrated on what was around him, his ears and nose straining. There, right there, something was moving. He flattened himself in the grass, like he'd seen McGonagall do the moment before, and crept soundlessly toward his victim. One step…two…three….he leapt, his claws out, and fiercely seized his prey before releasing it again.

'A beetle, Shadow?' He sensed the laughter behind the Head of Gryffindor's thoughts.

Vexed, he casually lifted his nose. If only he were to find a bird, and then he'd show her, the old magpie!

But it was something else that attracted his attention. Above them, the clouds had started to pile up in what threatened to become a good summer storm.

'Water,' McGonagall said as he followed his eyes. 'That's not good. Best not to linger.'

Shadow flicked his tail. The electricity charging the air, little by little, was making him nervous, but he had to first prove to McGonagall that he wasn't a housecat. Just a dungeon cat. Taking a run-up, he climbed into the tree without a sound. Slipping from branch to branch, hidden by the leaves and his black fur, he finally found what he was looking for…this little sparrow was either too old or too young, as it hadn't heard him coming. Oh well, too bad for him. With a single leap, he jumped at the bird, which flew off at the last moment, leaving Shadow to land, his paws empty, on the farthest fragile end of the branch, making it fold under his weight.

Off-balance, the cat found itself with its back end hanging in the empty air, attached to the swaying branch by only the strength of its claws. He glanced desperately toward the place where Snape was: the wizard had started to run immediately, ending his pretense of not paying attention to their little games.

Shadow saw him lift his wand and murmur a spell, then felt his behind raise gently until he regained his balance on the branch, his heart racing. It was just… How had he not realized that he'd gone so high? If he'd fallen… Merlin, how was he supposed to get down from here? If only he had his Firebolt. Paralyzed, he shot a pleading look at the Potions master.

The wizard let out a half-smile as he lifted his wand again and lowered the cat to the lawn, while McGonagall looked on disapprovingly.

'You could've got down very well on your own,' she protested.

'I thought I was going to fall,' Shadow admitted pitifully.

'You got down very well before. But you must pay more attention to where you land. That branch was too weak, even for a small cat like yourself. Start again.'

Shadow thought he felt the first drops of rain, but kept himself from protesting. He wasn't going to show himself the timid little cat in all of this! While Snape walked into the distance again, Shadow took a running start, and climbed the tree, not quite so high this time. His cat pride somewhat wounded, he set off on the quest of another bird to catch. It still wasn't nearly as complicated as catching a Snitch. What was she thinking—that old alley cat—that he'd been born yesterday?

It wasn't a drop that the cat felt now, but the beginning of a shower. Creeping farther out on the branch, he glanced at the sky that was now black.

He was thinking confusedly that staying up in a tree probably wasn't the best idea during a storm, when a muffled cry from further away attracted his attention: Severus, who'd stepped away again, was standing bent-over in the rain, desperately gripping his left forearm. His face was hidden by his hair, but Shadow guessed that he was doubled over in pain. And in fact, an instant later, the Potions master lifted his head in the rain, letting out another cry before falling to his knees. A cry of rage this time, the cat realized…and helplessness.

Without losing a moment, he jumped to the foot of the tree and ran with all his might toward Severus, flanked by McGonagall.

When they finally reached the wizard's side, he'd stood up, but his hand clenched his arm and his twisted features spoke volumes.

McGonagall transformed immediately. "Severus, what's happening?"

It was Harry's turn to take his human form again. "It's Voldemort, isn't it?"

"No, Potter," groaned the Potions master, "it's the Ministry inviting me to tea. Obviously it's Voldemort!"

Harry saw McGonagall startle on hearing the ex-Death Eater say this name. She took a step toward him, then placed a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "Severus, let us help you go in."

But before he could answer, another streak of pain made him fall to his knees again with a groan.

It was almost like night now, under the cover of the clouds, and the sudden darkness made Harry anxious. Without thinking, he roughly pushed his Head of House away from Severus. McGonagall, Bellatrix…and that same pain that was now steadily throbbing in his scar. It was too much for him. Reflexively, he raised his wand at the witch watching him, her eyes wide.

"Harry!"

"Get away from him! Now!"

"Mr. Potter, stop this childishness immediately; we must take Professor Snape inside, an attack could be—"

"GET AWAY! I won't let you. Leave! Right now!" Harry shouted.

"This is completely ridiculous! Harry, look at me, get hold of yourself; I've no intention of harming Severus or yourself. I simply want to help you."

But when she made a move to go to the wizard on the ground, the boy resolutely brandished his wand, and hissed like a cat…or a snake, thought the Head of Gryffindor.

He didn't speak an incantation, and yet it was indeed a spell that struck Minerva McGonagall full in the chest and propelled her into the distance with an unexpected strength. In spite of her surprise, the witch managed to transform in mid-flight, and land, uninjured, on four paws just a dozen meters farther away, before fleeing swiftly into a bush.

What spell could the boy have cast? She could feel a burning and a sharp, shooting pain in her chest, as if she'd been hit by something heavy that was shaking her entire body. Merlin, he'd not even spoken the incantation aloud, outside of that hissing…unless… Did Harry know how to cast spells in Parseltongue?

She discreetly drew nearer, so the boy didn't notice her, but she was clearly the last thing on his mind. Snape, now doubled over with pain that'd clearly escalated, didn't seem aware of his surroundings. All his strength focused on not crying out, his face sallow and his eyes closed, he didn't realize the state Harry was in—watching him helplessly, panic-stricken and becoming more agitated from second to second.

Frantically looking around him, his wand raised, the boy tried to pinpoint the source of the attack. But the wall of rain and the half-light made it impossible, and clenching his teeth, he began to hiss an incantation.

Minerva felt her fur stand on end. It was indeed in Parseltongue that Harry was expressing himself. Was he even aware of it? Merlin, what was he trying to do? Whatever it was, he'd clearly not obtained the desired result, because he was now staring at his wand, in a daze, not understanding why it hadn't obeyed him.

But a choked cry pulled him from his stupor. At his feet, the ex-Death Eater, still fiercely gripping his Mark, had rested a hand on the ground so as not to collapse, his shoulders shaking.

McGonagall felt her heart pound harder. Severus had already been suffering when she and Harry'd reached him, but he'd been lucid enough to talk to them; his pain seemed to increase, the more Harry…… An idea abruptly occurred to the cat.

Harry!

The Head of Gryffindor immediately retook her human form, without trying to hide herself any longer, while the boy spoke another incantation in Parseltongue. Around him, the air seemed to crackle, like a powerful, malevolent magical aura…

"Harry, no! You're only making things worse!"

The boy looked at her wildly, but to her great relief, without aggression. He seemed completely lost and without any idea of what to do in face of the situation, to the point of forgetting his resentment. "I…I don't understand, my spells aren't working. Help me, Professor. Please!"

Minerva opened her mouth to reply when a sudden peal of thunder rang out, making the air around them vibrate. Was it possible that the light had dimmed even more? And why did she have this abrupt impression that they were in a very, very precarious position? It was much too cold for a summer's day. And there was nothing natural about the cold chilling their skin, no more than the dark shadows floating above the park.

McGonagall felt the vaguely familiar sensation of despair fill her, and one glance at Harry was enough for her to know that he'd understood as well.

"Dementors," he breathed out.

"Severus," McGonagall said. "We must return to the Manor, inside the walls. Let me help you."

With a surge of will that surprised the witch, Snape did his best to nod at her through his confusion, his jaw still clenched almost to the point of breaking. He tried awkwardly to stand again, before falling back to the ground, overcome.

Becoming more and more nervous, Minerva seized her colleague by the arm, before looking up to ask Harry to help her.

But she stood stock still, mouth open, at the sight of the boy, his face, marble-like, turned toward the sky. His eyes vacant, lips half-open, he seemed to be listening attentively to something and…was it only the wind, or was Harry really making a hissing sound?

"Harry!" McGonagall cried out, desperate to attract his attention, but the boy didn't even startle at the sound of his name.

For a brief moment, Minerva wondered what Dumbledore would've done in this situation, but an instant afterward, it was the man she'd long considered a traitor and coward who took the situation in hand.

Gathering his strength, Snape had lifted his head and sought out Harry's eyes. "Shadow!" he called hoarsely.

This time, the boy jumped and turned to look in confusion toward the Potions master.

"Look at…me."

Harry took a hesitant step toward him to peer into Severus' black, glittering eyes.

"Think of…something…pleasant," Snape gasped out. "Harry…you can…_Patronus…"_

"I can't do it, Severus," the boy moaned. "I've already tried three times; it doesn't work and there're more and more of them. I…I can feel them, but not like before. It's like they're waiting for something from me. Like I called them instead of making them go away!" he confessed at last.

Severus was silent for a moment, his breathing ragged. Then, with a quick gesture, he grabbed his wand and held it out to Harry. "Try again. Think…positive. You can do it, Harry. I've got confidence in you."

Ignoring Minerva's gasp of surprise, Harry seized the wand. It was the same black wand he'd used that day in the dungeon, trying to push back the Dementors. Severus' wand, which had sacrificed its owner so that Harry'd not be hurt. And now, it was his turn to protect his professor. No, not his professor, he corrected. He wouldn't allow the different word to form in his head, but the thought was nonetheless there.

Lifting the black wand high, he summoned all the magic coursing through his veins like an electrical charge, and directed it through his hand. Severus, he had to think of Severus, and the Manor, even Shadow.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

For a fraction of a second, he thought he'd once again cast a Lumos in spite of himself. He had to lift his arm to protect his eyes from the blinding light. But when he opened them again, it was to the sight of a huge white stage, head held high, galloping full-out for the park, in the middle of what seemed to be a thick and shining mist.

It enveloped the three of them in a protective cloud, and the feeling of despair and freezing cold immediately drained away, leaving them relieved as well as stunned. The stag cantered in large circles around them, indefatigable, and even though the rain continued to fall, the shadows began to disperse, little by little, leaving only black clouds that made the sky the color of lead.

On the ground, Snape seemed to have regained his bearings and was trying to stand, his hand still clenched on his arm. Minerva went immediately to help him, but he pushed her away in irritation.

"Let's go in," he said, motioning with his head toward the Manor.

Then, catching Harry's worried eyes, he managed a faint smile. "I'll take my wand back. That was very well done, Harry."

The boy smiled at him as he handed him the wand. "Thanks." He hesitated for an instant, dozens of questions on the tip of his tongue. But the drawn features and the hand still gripping the Mark dissuaded him from asking them now. They first had to get back to the Manor. With a few potions in him, Severus would most likely feel better.

They made their way in silence, slowly, with difficulty, Snape clearly having trouble recovering his strength. When they were at last in the shelter of the dungeons, Harry couldn't help but sigh in relief.

Minerva watched incredulously as the boy rushed to the wooden table, where he chose two potions that he immediately took to Severus. The professor swallowed them down without being asked, then fell into an armchair with all the dignity the situation and his strength allowed him.

"Severus, how are you?"

The Potions master gritted his teeth, holding back the sarcastic reply burning his lips. Did he look like he was basking in happiness? Merlin, he had to be covered in mud; did Minerva have to be there on the exact day this had to happen?

"Better. The attack's intensity is lessening," he finally said.

"Is there something I can do?" Minerva urged.

"No. You can go back. Your session should be reported anyway; the storm doesn't seem about to stop."

"Severus, I can't leave you in such a state," the witch protested. "Let me call Poppy or Albus, there's surely something to be done."

"That never seemed to have bothered you before," the Potions master lashed out. Then, he went on, "It's not necessary, Minerva. Voldemort doesn't have the strength to sustain this sort of attack for very long; it's almost no longer painful. Neither Pomfrey nor Dumbledore could do anything for it."

"You don't think he could attack the Manor?" Harry asked nervously.

"No, no need to worry. There was no one here, outside of the Dementors; the alarms would've alerted me if it were otherwise."

"Severus, I'm not certain, but I really had the impression that the Dementors came because I called them. I didn't really _call_ them," he added quickly, "it's when I wanted to cast a Patronus, just in case, that I felt them answer…I don't understand!"

Snape sat up to look the boy in the eyes. "How, exactly?"

"It's hard to explain," Harry said, trying to order his thoughts. "Like an echo. A presence, but not a person, something more…vague?"

"A collective consciousness?" Snape suggested, still rubbing his forearm.

"Something like that. There were no words, at least I don't think so…maybe yes, after all. Something like, 'We're coming,' but more like a question, as if I had to tell them something. I don't know, I'm not even sure it really happened. I don't understand why my Patronus didn't work with my own wand," he finished with a lump in his throat.

"Harry," McGongagall said gently, "you didn't say a spell aloud when you did it, in the beginning. At least not in English. You said the incantation, but in Parseltongue."

Harry started, and the Potions master narrowed his eyes. "That was you?"

"I…" Harry swallowed. "I didn't realize that. Did I really do that? That's the first time…what does that mean?"

"You'd panicked, and Voldemort had activated my Mark. Did you feel a connection at the same time as I did?" Snape asked.

"My scar burned a bit, but it was really very slight. But my powers…I don't understand why nothing happened, when I've felt like I've been mastering them so well. Do you think I attracted the Dementors by wanting to send them away?"

"It's not impossible. I heard Parseltone being spoken, but I thought it was a repercussion of the attack. That explains it." Rubbing his forearm one last time, he finally released it, before looking disgustedly at the now black scar etched into his flesh.

"Did that really make things worse?" Harry asked, his eyes also fixed on the Mark.

Snape hesitated for a half-second. "It's difficult to say."

"Harry might've acted as a catalyst," McGonagall proposed thoughtfully. Her suggestion earned her a murderous look from Severus.

"Keep your theories to yourself, Minerva, and go back and inform Albus that Voldemort has attempted another attack. I'll come by later and make my report to him."

"Severus, you should rest," the Head of Gryffindor told him soothingly. "You look terrible."

"Thank you," Snape retorted. "I have every intention. Harry, dry your clothes or change, but don't stay like that. And for pity's sake, stop looking at me as if I died right in front of you. It's not as if this were the first time this bloody Mark decided to afflict me."

"It…is it always this bad?" Harry asked weakly, unable to let go of the subject.

Snape considered him for a moment. It wasn't morbid curiosity, he knew. Harry needed to know what was happening…and he hated when things were hidden from him. This time, however, it didn't seem wise to tell him any more than necessary.

"No, it's rarely this violent. But I suppose Voldemort wanted to send a clear message, and he put all his strength behind it. Fortunately, he's hardly stronger than myself at the moment."

The boy still stared at him anxiously. He probably sensed there was more behind it than Snape seemed to let on.

"I really need to rest, Harry," he said at last. "Do whatever you like while you wait for me, but I'd prefer that you not go out for now. I'll be back in an hour or two, and we'll go to Hogwarts to see the Headmaster…and your dear werewolf, if you like."

Harry looked away as he nodded. "I'm going to go change. I still feel like I can smell them on my clothes. I know they don't have an odor, but…" He shrugged. "You don't need anything?"

Severus shook his head, then headed for the stairs with one last look for McGonagall.

"Goodbye, Professor. And thank you," Harry said.

"You're welcome, Mr. Potter. If you like, I could stay and keep you company while Professor Snape rests, and keep watch in case another attack occurs."

Severus seemed on the verge of saying something, but changed his mind, staring at the flames in the fireplace.

Harry watched the two of them, hesitating.

"Whatever you like, Professor." Then, turning to Snape, he said, "I'll be back."

He closed the door behind him, and the echo of his footsteps faded quickly away. Left alone, the two Heads of House were quiet for a moment.

"Will this bother you, Severus?" Minerva asked at last.

"That you stay and keep Harry company, no. As for countering another attack, on the other hand. Might I know why you didn't cast a Patronus yourself, Minerva?"

The witch startled, then looked away. "I…I'm sorry, Severus. I would've dearly loved to be able to do that, you can be certain. I'm totally incapable of it," she confessed.

"Incapable?" Snape asked incredulously. "Since when?"

"Since always. I've never known how to produce a Patronus, much less one as strong as Harry's. Are you satisfied?" she asked dryly.

"No, not really. How can a witch such as you, an Order member, show herself incapable of producing a Patronus? What would happen if you were attacked by Dementors in the course of a battle?"

"I'd transform into a cat and run away. Is that what you wanted to hear? Yes, that would be my only chance to survive, I realize. Like a perfect Death Eater, incapable of producing a Patronus. That's probably the tactic Peter Pettigrew would choose as well, since we're speaking of it," she said, deeply disgusted.

Snape looked at her thoughtfully for an instant. "Not being able to produce a Patronus doesn't make you a Death Eater, Minerva."

"But the fact that you're capable clearly indicates that you are not one," sighed the witch. "Why didn't you take your chance, earlier, instead of giving your wand to Harry? I know from a reliable source that you're capable of it."

"I no longer had enough strength for it, old bag," growled the Potions master. "Didn't Albus deem it necessary to tell you that I'm just about as useful as a Squib these days? The attack exhausted my reserves. With the best intentions in the world, I would've been unable to produce even the smallest beginning of a Patronus."

"I'm sorry, Severus," McGonagall said softly. "Albus did indeed tell me what happened to you, and I must say that I was particularly impressed. I…"

"One more word, Minerva, and I swear I'll find enough strength to send you headfirst into the fireplace," Snape warned gravely.

McGonagall nodded, her eyes softening. Then, quickly verifying that Harry wasn't listening at the door, she said, "That attack, earlier, Harry took part in it in spite of himself, didn't he?" she whispered.

Snape clenched his teeth. "Probably. But don't think of saying a word about it in front of him, or I'll—"

"Oh, enough threats, Severus," Minerva said, annoyed. "I understood very well that you wanted to leave Harry out of this, even though I don't know your motivations. The boy has the right to know he could be a danger to you."

"He isn't one," Snape retorted. "Harry's taken on enough guilt already over all that's happened this summer, and about all the bad things that could happen in the world. It's unthinkable that I'd inflict this on him without knowing more."

"Merlin, Severus," McGonagall said, looking at him strangely. "Albus warned me that things had changed considerably between the two of you in recent weeks, but I didn't think… I'm very happy about it, don't doubt, just surprised, given your shared history," the witch added quickly, seeing her colleague's eyes darken.

"You should be, whether you approve of it or not," he said curtly.

"The hostility is completely unnecessary, Severus. It's clear that Harry is deeply attached to you; one only needs to see he eyes when he looks at you, and Merlin as my witness, he would've done anything to protect you earlier."

Snape's features relaxed. "Harry still tends to over-react in this sort of situation. His emotional state for now is less than precarious. It will take him some time to recover, but he's well on his way. He still needs to understand that he mustn't in any case put himself in danger for me or anyone else, and that lesson risks being more complicated."

"After what you've done for him, it's entirely understandable," Minerva replied. "Harry needs you—that much is clear, and it's high time that someone's decided to fill that role for him."

"Excuse me?" Snape asked tersely.

"You know very well what I mean," Minerva answered. "I watched you with the boy; you're as protective and attentive as a hen with her brood. No need to deny it."

Shocked, the Potions master almost choked. He opened his mouth to express the depths of his thoughts to the old harpy who served has Head of Gryffindor, but she stopped him with a hand.

"Harry is on the stairs. Keep your vehement protests for another time, Severus, and go rest; you've well deserved it. I promise to let you insult me to your heart's content when you return to Hogwarts."

Snape gave her a withering look as he got up stiffly from his armchair, and headed for Harry, who'd just entered the room.

"How do you feel?"

"Good, thanks. Just a bit shaken," Harry said.

"Do you need a calming potion, or a strengthening one? You used considerable energy with that Patronus."

"Actually, I feel a bit less 'electric', if you know what I mean. I think I needed to use my magic to let off a bit of steam. So, no, that won't be necessary, thanks, Pro…Severus."

Snape gave him a subtle smile. "That's good to know; we should not forget that in the future." Then, narrowing his eyes, he motioned almost imperceptibly with his head toward the witch standing near the fireplace. Harry shrugged slightly in reply to his questioning eyes. He didn't mind staying with McGonagall. For a reason he couldn't put his finger on, he was no longer afraid of her.

Snape's eyes became more insistent as he nodded slightly. '_Well, do your best.'_

Harry smiled. In the end, he'd been wrong. He _could_ easily communicate with Snape without a word, even without the aid of Animagus telepathy.

"You know where to find the tea and all the rest. I'll leave you to take care of your guest. If anything happens, I'll be in my room," he finally said with a pointed look. "Anything at all, Harry, all right?"

The boy nodded. He would've preferred to transform into the cat and follow the professor to his room, to be sure that all was well, but he doubted that Snape would appreciate that.

The Potions master opened the door, then, before turning to the Head of Gryffindor, who'd studiously observed this exchange.

"As for you, Minerva, be advised—solely make my cat ill-at-ease, and you'll find yourself back at Hogwarts before you have time to bat your tail, in a manner you wouldn't appreciate."

With that, he closed the door behind him and mounted the steps, as dignified and quickly as his muscles would allow.

McGonagall and Harry waited a few instants before sitting in their chairs and letting out a sigh.

"Sorry, Professor. He's always a bit grumpy when he's not feeling well. He doesn't want you to think he's weak, I suppose," Harry offered.

Minverva let out a little laugh. "Oh, on certain points, Severus will never change. I learnt long ago not to take offense. Speaking of this, Harry…'Severus'?" she asked with a slight smile.

Harry felt himself blush. "Yes, well, he told me to call him that after…" He shook his head. "It's a bit complicated, but I try. He's managed to call my Harry, after all."

Minerva nodded fondly. "It's clear he's very taken with you, Harry. I've never seen Severus so protective of anyone. At least, not since…" She stopped. "I'm very happy for you, even if I regret that it took such tragic events to bring the two of you together."

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. "It's complicated. But yeah, Severus has been great to me. I don't know how I could ever return the favor, but I'm going to try. I only hope things won't change too much at Hogwarts."

"That will be another challenge, I suppose," McGonagall agreed. "But you seem to have the situation well in hand, from what I've been able to see."

"Anyway, I'm not sure I'm in a hurry to go back to Hogwarts," Harry admitted. "I feel pretty good here."

"Yes," Minerva said as she glanced about the room. "I can certainly understand that. I would've never suspected that Severus lived in a manor like this. I must say, I'm rather impressed."

"You've never come before?" Harry asked, astonished.

"I doubt that anyone from Hogwarts has ever been here, outside of Professor Dumbledore. Severus is very jealous of his private life." She seemed on the verge of adding something, but then changed her mind.

"I'm sorry about my reaction before," Harry went on, sincerely contrite. "I don't know what came over me…or rather, I know what it is, and it had nothing to do with you. I truly am sorry; I hope I didn't hurt you."

"No, nothing serious, thank you. Professor Dumbledore explained the situation, and I suppose I can understand your reaction. Severus' idea of my taking my other form was truly an excellent one, though."

"That was his idea?" Harry exclaimed, incredulous. Snape hadn't seemed to particularly appreciate his colleague's presence, however.

"Indeed, and I was rather surprised he'd suggest for me to come here, to a place where you'd feel more at ease for this confrontation. I'd never imagined to one day have the chance to put my paws on Severus Snape's territory," she finished with a laugh.

But Harry didn't laugh. "You…the two of you don't get on very well, do you? It's not just that you're Head of Gryffindor and him of Slytherin?"

Minerva's gaiety dissolved immediately. "Oh, Harry. It's…rather complicated, in truth."

"I'd really like to understand, if that's all right with you," Harry said softly. "I haven't known the professor for very long, not really…and he doesn't talk about himself much."

Minerva sighed as she groped for words. "Very well. Severus and I have a long history. I first had him as a student during his seven years at Hogwarts, and in hindsight, I must confess that I was probably particularly unfair to him. The fact that he was always at odds with your father, Sirius and Remus… I had a bit of a weak spot for them, and Severus played the part of the villain only too well. The fact that he became a Death Eater, the death of your parents, Harry…. All that just served to reinforce the prejudices I held against him, and I fear I wasn't very welcoming when he came to Hogwarts as a professor. Albus instated him as Potions professor, and most of the other professors were rather reticent about him, despite the trust the Headmaster showed in him.

"Severus has never been the sort of person who cared to make himself liked. He is so very proud…when I finally admitted there was something in him that he didn't want to be seen, years had passed, and I suppose there was too much water under the bridge for us truly be friends. We ended by treating each other courteously, however, as much as Severus' permanent sarcasm can be considered as such."

Harry remained silent for a long moment, as if he were running over the story in his head. "He's not like that, you know," he said at last. "His way of speaking, and being, is just…I imagine he doesn't care what other people think of him. But he's really intelligent, and nice. Oh Merlin, don't ever tell him I said that—he'd strangle me on the spot."

Minerva laughed quietly. "Oh, I doubt that; he'd cut off his arm before doing harm to his precious cat!" Then she added more seriously, "I don't know Harry. No one ever doubted that Severus Snape was one of the most intelligent wizards of his generation. He's certainly very arrogant, but often rightfully so. Do you know he was the youngest Potions master in over three centuries? He was in Voldemort's service at the time, and I doubt that his master bothered to congratulate him on the matter, but it's really an accomplishment. And I don't doubt either that he is…nice," she chuckled. "Certainly not after this afternoon, and even before that, it's undeniable that I'd misjudged him for a long time. I've certainly wronged him more than I'd like to admit, but Severus isn't a very approachable man when it comes to apologies."

"He forgave _me_," Harry said.

Minerva smiled. "In that precise case, I doubt that required a serious compromise to his dignity. Severus probably had to face up to more than one revelation over the course of this summer, starting with the fact that you weren't James."

"Yes, that's what he said. In a way, I think he's also made his peace with him," Harry said, thinking about the apparition of the Marauders in the cemetery. "But…I'm not sure I could do as much as he did. My father was really horrible to Severus, you know."

He saw the Head of Gryffindor pale. "I'm aware of that, and my manner of dealing with James and Sirius and their misbehavior very likely contributed to making Severus even more bitter. I didn't know at the time…" She shook her head. "No matter. I'm hoping to see in this invitation here today a sort of cease fire…even though I have no doubt that he made it solely in your interests," Minerva finished with a little smile. "And I must say that fact makes him eminently nice to me."

"Try not to say that to him either," Harry said. "I doubt he'll appreciate the word 'nice.'"

Minerva began to laugh again. "Sweet, perhaps?"

"You're trying to kill him with a heart attack!" Harry said, his turn to laugh now.

"Oh, Harry, it's truly good to see you in good health again," McGonagall said at last, when she'd become serious once again. "We were so worried about you this summer."

"That's thanks to Snape," Harry insisted, determined not to miss an opportunity. "He's been amazing."

"You don't need to tell me that, Harry," McGonagall said. "Professor Dumbledore explained everything to me. If I'd known your family was treating you that way…" She sighed. "It seems we're destined to make the same mistakes over and over. Harry, I want you to know that if you need anything, you can come to me at any time. I know Professor Snape's taking good care of you now, but you shouldn't hesitate for a second if the necessity arises. Being an Animagus sometimes turns out to be very useful. I hope we can continue with our sessions at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. "I'd like that a lot. And yes, I know I can come to you, Professor. What happened at Malfoy Manor…it's still there in my head, but I know you had nothing to do with that. It'll just take some time for…all that to sink in, I imagine. I'm really happy you came; it was good to see you. And maybe I'll do better in Transfigurations, now that I can change into a cat."

"I wouldn't expect anything less, especially given your OWL results," the professor replied.

"My results! I've not got them yet; the letter mustn't have been able to reach me."

"Oh, I know from a reliable source that Professor Dumbledore gave your letter to Severus, after he changed your Potions mark…a highly irregular thing to do, I must say; I'm not sure I approve."

"I repeated the classes this summer," the boy defended himself. "I assure you, Professor, I put a lot of effort into it. I'll ask Severus for my letter this evening; I didn't think of that before; I've had a lot on my mind."

"No doubt," McGonagall said, her tone softening.

"Do you know who'll be Defense professor this year?" Harry asked to change the subject.

"He was just named today, and I can say with certainty that you know him as well. I think you'll like the classes this year, especially after the last professor's performance."

Her delighted mood didn't inspire enthusiasm in Harry. "No, not Snape! He can't take that position, he didn't accept, did he? He can't, not with his powers!"

"Merlin, Harry, no!" Minerva exclaimed. "I didn't know you knew that…maybe it'd be best for Professor Dumbledore to inform you in due time."

"I hate when they hide things from me," Harry grumbled.

"It's not a matter of hiding anything from you, but of clearly explaining what's happened. I don't think I'm the best person to do that," McGonagall firmly replied.

Harry became sullen, but didn't answer. His Head of House could be perfectly stubborn, and he had no intention of spoiling their new understanding. If he wanted her and Snape to get along, this sort of subject easily risked undermining his efforts.

"Do you want some tea?" he asked at last.

"With a hint of milk, if possible," McGonagall agreed.

Harry set to work, preferring to heat the water directly over the fire. Unwise to use his powers any more than necessary, especially after this afternoon.

They drank their tea, comfortably settled in front of the fireplace, Minerva bringing Harry up to speed on the last classes, and the health of his Gryffindor friends. Time passed quickly, and they were both surprised when they head Snape's footsteps on the stairs.

Harry got up quickly to meet him, but McGonagall held him back by the arm.

"Harry, one last thing…" She handed him an envelope, urging him to put it away in his robes. "Open it when you've calmed down."

The door opened, and Harry, intrigued, nodded as he put the envelope into his pocket.

"Severus, how are you feeling?" Minerva was the first to ask.

"Better, thank you. Harry, do you feel ready to go to Hogwarts? It'll only be a matter of an hour or two, I think."

Harry felt his heart constrict, watching the professor casually swallow down two potions, but he agreed. Snape's features were more relaxed, and he was clearly no longer suffering.

"Do you want me to transform?" Harry asked.

"That'd be preferable."

The black cat jumped quickly to his shoulder under McGonagall's bemused eyes; she'd also retaken her Animagus form.

"Don't even think about it, Minerva," Snape sneered. "You're much too heavy and old for that little stunt."

The cat crept in his direction, clearly outraged, but Severus paid it no attention. Throwing a handful of powder into the fireplace, he announced his destination. "Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts!"

The three of them stepped through the flames and an instant later found themselves in the décor of the familiar office.

The tabby quickly took its leave, without troubling itself with formalities. Clearly vexed, Snape thought with a slight smile. This situation was going to furnish him with a new arsenal of sarcasm for the old Gryffindor, and he was delighted in advance.

"Well, well," said a voice from behind them. "I see you've managed to bring the two cats back in one piece, Severus. The session went well?"

Irritated, Snape turned to face Dumbledore. "Minerva didn't alert you, then? The session, as you say, was interrupted by an attack from Voldemort."

The Headmaster froze at his words, and motioned for him to take a chair as he sat behind his desk. "Severus, what happened? Was anyone hurt?"

"No," Snape replied. At this word, Shadow jumped to the floor and transformed.

"That's not true! Professor, Voldemort attacked Severus through his Mark, and it was really disturbing! I had to push the Dementors away before—"

"Easy, Harry. I'd like to hear this story from the beginning, if possible," Dumbledore said as he lifted a hand.

Harry looked toward Snape, who was watching him, deeply annoyed. "Sit down," he ordered. "Albus, it was nothing so dramatic, by a long shot. Voldemort tested his strength through the Mark, and certain circumstances occurred so that his attempt had unexpected consequences."

"Not so dramatic? You couldn't even stand on your feet!" Harry protested before shrinking back at the professor's dark look.

"Very well," Dumbledore said calmingly. "Severus, perhaps you could start?"

"It happened just after Minerva arrived," the Potions master began. "I left the two cats to do their exercises in their corner, while busying myself with my plants, and a storm started to form."

"A natural storm?" the Headmaster questioned.

"In all probability, yes. The air had been heavy for several hours. Be that as it may, Voldemort did indeed attack me through the Mark at the moment when the storm broke out. I think it was more a matter of an attempt to test the wards…and the effectiveness of the Mark."

"From this I deduce that it's still active," Dumbledore sighed.

Snape nodded. "I was taken by surprise. But I no longer had enough magic at the moment to counter the effects, and the intensity of the attack only increased. After which…" He briefly paused. "Harry and Minerva reached me. The storm had broken out, and we should've gone in, but I was incapable of moving myself. The pain wiped out my strength for a moment, and I became rather oblivious to what was happening around me."

He looked impassively at Harry, signaling for him to continue.

The boy swallowed once, and took up the account for him. "I…I was a bit panicked, I think. When Professor McGonagall wanted to help Severus, I thought she was trying to hurt him, that maybe it was her fault… I cast a spell at her to make her go away."

The two wizards stared at him, their faces impassive.

"The professor transformed into a cat and then hid, I think, for a moment. I was looking everywhere to see where the attack could be coming from, if Voldemort was close somewhere, like the last time. But with the rain and the clouds, it was really difficult to see. Not being sure, I wanted to cast a Patronus, but that didn't work. I tried several times, but nothing came of it. Well…I think."

He was quiet for a moment, groping for the words to go on. It was finally Snape who said it for him.

"It would appear that Harry in reality spoke the incantations in Parseltongue, and it's possible that in trying to send the Dementors away, he instead called them," he explained.

"The same way as Voldemort…" Dumbledore murmured.

Harry slumped slightly, and Snape narrowed his eyes. "With Voldemort's powers, yes," he corrected. "That's what seems the most likely."

That was hardly better, Harry thought, but all the same a bit more reassuring.

"Anyway, they came," Harry continued. "All around the Manor, up above it, it got even darker and there were a lot of them…and I could communicate with them. A little, anyway. They were looking for something, but they weren't there to attack. I think they were just waiting for me to tell them what to do."

"All this had to be rather disturbing for you, my boy," Dumbledore said sympathetically.

"I don't know, I didn't really think about it, I just wanted it to stop. I think McGonagall was talking to me, but I didn't pay attention. I was somewhere else. I wanted to understand. And then I heard my name, and I turned, and I saw that Professor Snape had called me. He asked me to cast a Patronus, but I knew I couldn't do it…so he gave me his wand."

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes glittering.

Snape nodded. "Harry had already used my wand before to push back Dementors. He just had to think of something positive…and not cast the spell in Parseltongue. A distraction, in short."

"And it worked," Harry said. "I was able to cast a Patronus, like usual, except it was much bigger and powerful, and this sort of silver mist started to come up all around us. After that, the Dementors left and we were able to go in."

"How long did Voldemort's attack last, Severus?"

"In total, probably about ten minutes. It gradually diminished in intensity, and I was able to manage better after the Dementors left and I'd had a few potions. I've a feeling that this short attack greatly reduced Voldemort's resources," Snape replied.

Dumbledore looked at him for a long moment, and it seemed to Harry that more was communicated by the two men's eyes than what had actually been said.

"I'll have to study this question more closely," the Headmaster finally stated. "Hopefully these attacks will not be repeated. Do you know if there's something to be done to counter them, Severus?"

"Nothing very effective, to my knowledge. A few spells to lessen their effects, painkilling potions. I assume, however, that Voldemort cannot sustain this level of intensity permanently, even in normal circumstances. Currently, he is weak, and now that I've been forewarned, I'll be certain to never be caught without a potion at hand."

Dumbledore slowly nodded. "We'll do some research, my boy. We'll find a solution."

Snape agreed quickly, clearly not convinced.

"As for you, Harry, you've demonstrated considerable self-control, and I congratulate you for it. Mastering your powers is a priority, but you must also be careful to keep your impulses under control. Professor McGonagall could've been seriously hurt, you realize?"

Harry straightened, uncomfortable. "I know, Professor, I'm sorry. And not only for that, but for what I said to you yesterday. I know you're not like Voldemort. I…I lost control of myself a bit, I guess. I really didn't believe it, sorry."

His tone was more sincere than he'd expected. But after all, he knew from the bottom of his heart that Dumbledore deserved this apology. Severus had been right: he was doing his best, even if this 'best' wasn't always to Harry's taste.

He looked toward Severus, who answered him with a brief narrowing of his eyes.

'_That was good.'_

"Apology accepted, my boy," the Headmaster finally said. "I can appreciate your worries, Harry, and the intensity of your emotions after all you've gone through. But you must take into account your new powers, and the risks they present if you should lose control. Trust in your judgment, and don't allow every little thing to upset you."

Harry nodded, incapable of answering. The Headmaster smiled at him kindly, before standing. "Severus, we should talk about all of this again later. I was about to pay a visit to Remus Lupin; perhaps you'd like to go along with me?"

"I'll join you in a few moments; I'd like first to gather a few ingredients from my laboratory. Harry, I'll meet you there, if you like," the Potions master said as he took his turn to stand.

In place of a reply, Harry took his cat form and jumped to his usual place on Snape's left shoulder.

"I believe your cat prefers to go with you, Severus," Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Snape grumbled, but did nothing to make Shadow get down. "We'll be with you in a few minutes; it won't take long."

"Until later, then. Remus Lupin is still in the infirmary; you'll have no trouble finding him."

The way to the dungeons was quiet; the students were no doubt in class, and Severus seemed to know the less frequently used passageways to get from place to place in the castle. As soon as they entered the professor's familiar office, Shadow jumped to the floor, without bothering to transform. The office seemed larger this way, and full of strange odors…

"Don't put your nose in the drawers, you might regret it," Snape warned him.

Rummaging through the cupboards and various chests of drawers that filled the room, Snape quickly found what he'd come for. He was ready to leave again, when he noticed an envelope lying conspicuously on the table.

'_S. Snape.'_

He recognized the handwriting at first glance; Draco Malfoy's pretentiously perfect calligraphy was inimitable. Severus raised his wand and rapidly verified that the object wasn't cursed. Reassured on this point, he took the envelope and slipped it into his robes. That evening…he'd read it that evening, away from other eyes. That'd be soon enough to know what the Malfoy heir had to say to him.

"Shadow, if you're ready…"

With no further urging, the cat jumped to his shoulder. Snape glanced one last time around the office. He shouldn't delay returning here, if he wanted to maintain any measure control over his students. His absence was certainly being taken for cowardice, but he hardly had a choice. Regretfully closing the door, he headed through the maze of corridors to the infirmary. This pathway, beside the great corridors, was certainly one of the ones he knew best. The door leading in from the side of the infirmary was largely unknown, and he stealthily entered the huge dormitory where he himself had spent so many nights.

A bit too stealthily perhaps, he thought an instant later, as the pieces of a conversation reached his ears. His spy reflexes were hardened, but he should've taken more care when he was in the company of Shadow, whose hearing was sharp.

"…but don't ask me to hurt Loki, Albus. Don't ask me that," Remus' voice pleaded calmly.

"I'd never demand that of you, my boy," Dumbledore answered. "But you know the situation we're in…"

Snape deliberately scraped the soles of his boots on the floor as he approached, and the voices stopped. On his shoulder, Shadow gently dug his claws into his cloak, clearly frustrated. _Curiosity killed the cat,_ Snape thought. He'd have to talk to Harry about that as well, when the time was right.

The partition that hid the bed from view slid away, revealing a worried-looking Remus and a Dumbledore whose face was carefully composed.

"That was quick, Severus," he said in a tone which held a bit of reproach.

Snape didn't reply, contenting himself with pushing the cat to the floor with a shrug of his shoulder. Harry quickly took his human form.

"Remus, are you doing better?" he asked, half-worried, half-relieved, at the sight of his friend sitting up in bed.

"Yes, Harry, thanks," Lupin answered. "Professor Dumbledore told me you had some new adventures this afternoon."

Harry nodded. "Nothing serious, it turns out. But lost control a bit. I attacked McGonagall."

"Professor McGonagall," Remus corrected. "There're situations where staying in control of yourself is almost impossible. I'm in a position to know that."

Yes, Harry thought, suddenly struck by the parallel. Remus didn't have control over his reactions either, when he was in his werewolf form.

"…but you have the means of controlling this power, and of doing something extraordinary with it. Don't miss out on that, Harry," Remus continued.

The boy nodded. "I'm practicing, Remus, promise."

Lupin smiled. "We'll have the chance to take up our lessons again soon. Even though after your accomplishments of this past year, I doubt you need my advice. I hope you'll want to help me in class, Harry. That would be an excellent way of motivating the other students."

"In class?" Harry stammered. "How so, in class?"

"Professor Dumbledore convinced me to return as Defense instructor this year, since it seems the position is vacant."

"Professor? But I thought you couldn't any longer…now that everyone knows…" Harry glanced quickly at Severus, whose face, always impassive, didn't show the slightest emotion. Still, it was because of Snape that Remus had had to leave in the first place.

"Professor Dumbledore was able to convince the Board that having a werewolf on our side in the castle would be a good thing, after last night's attack. It remains to be seen if parents will accept it as well, of course, but that can wait until I've recovered enough strength to take up my duties," Remus explained.

Definitely, Harry thought, everyone seemed to be having trouble recovering their strength, these days…except for himself. He doubted that the news pleased Severus, though. Actually, he wasn't sure that it pleased him either.

"The position is cursed, Remus, you know that!"

"It's only for a year," Lupin said soothingly. "I don't intend to stay in it permanently. And I could finally spend some time with you; I know I've been away more than I've been around lately. It wasn't my own wish, I hope you know that, Harry. I'm finally going to be able to make up for lost time."

Harry knew it, but that didn't make up for Remus not being there. And something else disturbed him, something that definitely wasn't coming from Remus…a confused feeling of deep hostility that was foreign to him. A movement behind him was enough to make him realize the origin of these waves of anger: Severus, who obviously didn't appreciate someone getting too close to his cat.

Or was this only a quirk of his imagination? Of his own desires? Severus jealous over him?

In any case, it was up to him to act. He loved Remus, of course he loved him…but he had to set the record straight right away, before Severus found another reason to hate his former enemy.

"Thanks, Remus, I know," he replied as he took a step backward, to stand beside Severus. "I'm sure it'll be great to have you in class. And for us to see each other, from time to time," he made clear.

As if he'd understood his intention, Severus placed an arm around his shoulders, like he'd already done a bit earlier that day. There was something in the gesture that was perhaps subtly more possessive, Harry thought, but he didn't appreciate it any less.

"Perhaps it would be time to go home," Severus suggested, at Remus' slightly defeated expression. Then, turning to the boy, he said, "Do you want me to come back and get you later?"

Harry hesitated for an instant, then shook his head. "No, I'm starting to get a bit tired, after all. I don't think I've realized how tense I've been. I'm rather anxious to be home," the boy confessed.

Snape smiled at him, a sincere smile that touched him almost as much as his restraint.

"Home, in that case."

Remus seemed to have great difficulty hiding his bewilderment, as the boy told him goodbye. Harry wasn't certain what he was going to have to do to make Remus accept the situation, if that were even possible, but he had it in his head that the werewolf would be less sensitive about this subject than Severus. Or perhaps simply different. He didn't know if Lily, James and Sirius had wanted this…and he had a hard time imagining himself being able to tell Remus about it. Not yet, not now.

He felt someone push him gently by his shoulders, and an instant afterward, he was walking in the corridor, Severus still at his side.

"Do you have need of fresh potions, Albus?"

"If you have the chance, that would definitely be a good thing," Dumbledore replied, having left along with them. "Effective potions for werewolves are rather difficult to find."

"I don't have any in stock, but I have what's needed to prepare them quickly. I'll send them to you tonight."

Dumbledore solemnly nodded as they came to the stairway leading to his office. "Severus, would it be possible to speak to you in private for a few moments?" he asked softly.

"Out of the question to leave Harry here, if that's what you intend."

"He can wait in your office, then?" Dumbledore suggested.

"Alone, certainly not."

"Uh," Harry interrupted. "_He_ is standing here, right under your noses. If you absolutely have to tell your little secrets, I can just as well go back and stay with Remus."

The two wizards looked at him, inscrutable.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Dumbledore finally offered. "Perhaps you could go on to the Manor in advance, if that doesn't bother you."

But before Harry could reply, Severus spoke. "I'd prefer not, after the events of this afternoon. Where has Professor McGonagall gone? If she'd make up her mind to fill her role as Head of Gryffindor, it wouldn't be too soon," he grumbled

"It seems to me that Minerva is in class, but I could still ask—"

"Ask Dobby," Harry interrupted. "That wouldn't bother him. He can stay with me in the office, and if anything comes up, he can Apprarate me to the kitchens, or I could go directly back to the Manor. Honestly, it's not as if a werewolf is going to jump me the moment I'm alone. I'm going to have to come back to Hogwarts at some point, you realize."

The two wizards considered him again, this time thoughtfully.

"That's not a bad idea," Snape finally admitted. "Wait for me in my office until I come back; I will not be long. Dobby!"

He'd scarcely said the name when the house-elf appeared, all excited at the sight of the boy smiling at him.

"Master Harry Potter! Dobby is so happy to see you after these horrible attacks! Dobby was very worried to not see Harry Potter return!"

"I'm sorry you were worried, Dobby," the boy said sincerely. "I was safe, and everything's fine now…at least, I suppose it is," he said with an accusatory look for Snape and Dumbledore.

"Dobby," the Headmaster said in his most amiable of voices, "would it inconvenience you to watch over Mister Potter's safety for a few minutes, while Professor Snape and I have a little discussion?"

"Dobby would give his life for Harry Potter! Dobby would never let anyone hurt Harry Potter! No, no, as Dobby lives, no one—"

"That won't be necessary, Dobby," Harry interrupted him. "Could you just Apparate us into Professor Snape's office? That's possible, isn't it, I mean with the Anti-Apparation wards…"

"Of course, Harry Potter, sir, house-elves can. Dobby will take Harry Potter right away! Right away!"

"Very good," Harry said as he laughed. "See you later, I suppose."

Snape nodded. "Try not to stick you nose everywhere. That would be unwise."

"I believe you've already told me that today, Professor, you're going soft in the head!" Harry laughed.

"Insolent brat," the Potions master growled. "Out of my sight before I decide to take points from Gryffindor, even though you've not returned to classes."

"Lead the way, Dobby," Harry said, holding onto the elf at the shoulder, a big smile on his face. The two of them disappeared with a _pop_, leaving the two men standing there.

"Well, Severus, Harry seems very decidedly at ease with you these days," Dumbledore pointed out, his eyes sparkling more than ever.

"That brat needs a good lesson in respect," the professor grumbled as they went up the stairway leading to the office.

"Oh, I doubt he'll receive it," the Headmaster chuckled. "I never thought to be able to say it one day, Severus, but I suspect you're completely incapable of severity with the boy.

Snape groaned as he fell into an armchair. "He's hardly given me reason to be, up to this point. He's…terribly emotional, actually."

"And lovable," Dumbledore added, clearly hiding a small laugh in his beard.

"Very well, old man, you've made your point. What is your next plan of attack—make me sign an acknowledgment of excessive indulgence, and wall him off in the Gryffindor common room?" the professor ground out.

"I wouldn't go that far, no; I don't think that'd be very useful anyway; the rumors of it would have arrived ahead of me long before," the Headmaster said, laughing softly.

"Spare me your sarcasm and get to the facts," Snape said dryly.

"Oh, admit that it's just a return of the favor, Severus. Well, well, the facts, then…" Dumbledore sat down, and took a few moments to compose himself. "I must confess that the events of this afternoon concern me, even worry me. Your wand, Severus, I don't believe I'm wrong in saying it possesses the same protections as formerly?"

Snape nodded slowly. "I checked it again after Harry used it the first time. The protections are still in place."

"And your Mark awakened when Harry spoke the incantation in Parseltongue, didn't it?"

Severus sighed. "It had already been activated by then. But yes, I think it was his actions that gave the attack so much power. In wanting to repel it, he unwillingly participated," Severu explained, as if reluctant. "He'll learn to master his powers. While waiting, it's out of the question to speak to him about it, Albus."

"I understand your point of view, and I'll respect your choice. My own proved sufficiently disastrous this summer. But Severus, you know what all of this means, and the consequences it could produce."

Snape stiffened. "I've thought about it. But it's only one possibility."

"Severus," Dumbledore said in a conciliatory voice, "perhaps it'd be best for you to stay away from Harry, at the very least until you've regained your strength. That would be wise, given the circumstances."

"Wise?" Severus exploded. "With Loki on a mission at Hogwarts, and Harry's emotional instability? He must remain at the Manor, and he must rest and regain his confidence in himself. Whatever happens…we'll deal with it as we go along."

"You realize the danger that might represent for both of you, Severus?"

But Snape shook his head. "It'd be worse if it were otherwise. He could call Dementors…or even worse, and nothing could protect him."

Dumbledore nodded. "I expected that answer. But you must be careful, extremely careful…and don't hesitate to keep me informed of the slightest development; it could be crucial. Whatever that may be, Severus."

"I'll not fail to do that. I'm counting on you for the research, Albus. Harry and the potions are taking up all of my time, and I'm not so efficient these days. I will let you know as soon as it's possible for me to resume my position," he assured him.

"Don't' worry about that, Severus. Your current work is much more important," Dumbledore reassured him.

But Snape frowned. "It's not work, Albus. I'm not doing it for you. Let there be no ambiguity on this subject: Harry's welfare stands above all the rest."

"I've never doubted that, Severus. From that perspective, we're working together."

Snape arose, soon followed by Dumbledore. "If that's all you had to tell me, Albus…"

The Headmaster smiled. "For now, yes. I'll leave you to join our young friend. I fear, though, that he overhead a bit more of my conversation with Remus than he would've liked."

"I'll try to keep his mind off Loki as much as possible. Even though, knowing Harry, that will be precisely the subject he'll choose to take up again and again," Snape ground out.

"Yes, Harry has a certain intuition concerning sensitive subjects…and unfortunately, an infuriating tendency to imagine the worst. I'll leave you to deal with that how you see fit, Severus, but try to remember that it's Remus' wish that Harry not be informed, for as long as is possible."

"Remus Lupin has never been anything but a monumental problem, and he'll remain one. But he's right on this point. Harry would be too influenced, and Lupin knows it. Nothing good would come of it. Keep me informed if the werewolf needs potions; it's really not the time to lose him. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to take Harry back to the Manor posthaste."

"Do it, my boy, do it," Dumbledore replied as the Potions master took the stairs. "And take care of yourself, Severus."

But the door had already closed again.

***

If he'd found moving about by Floo unpleasant before, Harry quickly realized that Apparating with an elf was a much more trying experience.

Barely holding himself upright in the office, he closed his eyes for an instant to try and convince his stomach to stay out of his throat. A few seconds later, he was able to straighten up, and missed overturning two bottles with questionable contents, as he found himself face to face with two bulbous eyes staring at him, full of worry.

"Is Harry Potter sick? Dobby knows how to heal Harry Potter, he just needs to chew a harpy fingernail and to—"

"Thanks, Dobby, I'm fine," Harry interrupted him, feeling his stomach lurch again. "It'll pass on its own, really. Thanks for agreeing to come with me. I've had enough discussions and whispering for the day…" Then, seeing Dobby's worried look, he added, "Did you know I can change into a cat now?"

"Dobby knows," the elf replied in a little admiring voice. "The elves talked a great deal this summer. Harry Potter was in great danger. But he is very, very powerful now, Dobby can see it."

"See it?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby went on. "The elves have the means to feel the magic of wizards. And Harry Potter's magic is much more powerful than before, much more powerful than that of other wizards…even that of the Headmaster, Harry Potter," he whispered as he looked around, as if he expected to be punished for his offense.

"More…more magic than Dumbledore? Dobby, are you sure?" Harry asked, astounded.

"Much more," Dobby agreed frenetically. "A magic that moves, that moves a great deal. Professor Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard before, Harry Potter, but he's far behind now. And Professor Snape as well."

"Can you sense his magic, Dobby? The professor's? Does he have enough left?" Harry asked eagerly.

Dobby hesitated for an instant. "Professor Snape has much magic, Harry Potter. But it cannot answer him anymore, for now."

Harry shook his head. Dobby wasn't telling him anything new. What he could tell him, on the other hand… A thin smile stretched his lips. "Dobby, tell me, who is the most powerful wizard that you know? Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby answered, nodding his head enthusiastically. "But Harry Potter has more magic now. Much, much more!"

"And after the Headmaster, Dobby. Who comes after him?"

Dobby shuddered. "It's the wizard He Who Must Not Be Named, Harry Potter. Bad magic, dark, very dark."

Harry stayed silent for a moment, considering what Dobby had just told him. "So that means that…I'm not more powerful than Voldemort?"

"Harry Potter has more magic," the elf confirmed. "But the dark wizard…he knows powerful spells, Harry Potter, sir. He knows how to call things that shouldn't be to help him. It's bad, bad magic!"

Harry nodded. Yes, bad magic, in reality. "And after him, Dobby? Who has the most magic?"

Once again, Dobby hesitated. "Dobby knows many wizards, but he doesn't know them all. The most powerful wizard that Dobby knows after the wizard He Who Must Not Be Named is Professor Snape, Harry Potter, but he can't use his powers now."

Harry felt as if he'd just received a blow to his chest. "Snape? Snape, after Voldemort? Does Voldemort know? Does anyone know that?" he choked out.

"No, Harry Potter, only the elves can see the magic of wizards, but very few wizards know this. They wouldn't be happy if they knew, not happy that the elves know."

"That's for certain…"Harry murmured. "I won't say anything, don't worry. I wonder if Snape knows…"

"Professor Snape knows the elves very well, Harry Potter. He knows what the elves are capable of."

"Really?" Harry asked, astonished again. Hadn't Severus said, though, that he didn't trust house-elves?

"Yes, Harry Potter. Professor Snape used to come to the kitchens often to see the elves when he was a student. And when he came back as a professor, he hadn't forgotten the elves that he'd known, no, no, he came to see them, from the very first day. The first day, Harry Potter! The old elves here knew Severus Snape very well, and they all would die for him, Harry Potter! Yes, all of them! Severus Snape is a great wizard!"

Harry decided to sit down for a moment, contemplating what the elf had just told him. He'd learnt more about Severus today than he had in six years at Hogwarts. How the young Severus had come to seek refuge in the kitchens with the house-elves, while Professor McGonagall had confessed having been unfair to him during his school years. She'd been right on one point, in any case. There was certainly more to Severus than he'd like to let on.

Steps rang out in the corridor, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat as he recognized the familiar footsteps. Snape entered the office, and it seemed to Harry that a quick flash of relief spread through the black eyes when he saw him, sitting in the armchair.

It was toward Dobby that he turned, however. "Thank you, Dobby. All went well, I imagine?" he asked.

"Very well, Professor Snape, sir! Harry Potter was sick after Apparating, but he's better now," squeaked the elf, bending over to make little bows with which Harry was familiar.

Snape nodded. "Thank you for your service. You can return to your work."

With one last bow, Dobby turned to Harry. "Until later, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is always here to serve you! Always!"

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said with a smile, "for everything."

Blinking, the house-elf disappeared with a slight _pop._

"That elf is by far the most talkative I've ever met," Snape commented as he threw a fistful of Floo powder into the fire.

Harry couldn't help but smile. Severus had no idea how…

That evening, exhausted by their day, the two wizards went up to bed early. After a long relaxing shower, Harry had only one wish: to sleep twelve hours straight, without nightmares, if possible, and to forget the events of the day. At least, certain of them. In particular, the fact of having called the Dementors, and the sight of Severus cut to the ground by the pain, clutching his Mark and struggling not to cry out.

What he didn't want to forget, on the other hand, was that feeling of deep peace that he'd felt several times during that day. He thoughts were interrupted, though, by a rustling of paper when he laid his robes on a chair. Intrigued, he rummaged in the pocket and found there the envelope that McGonagall had given him earlier.

More curious than ever, he sat comfortably on his bed to open it. The envelope contained only a single piece of glossy paper, but the image he saw paralyzed Harry. It couldn't be…how had she been able….

The Polaroid, he remembered. The same one that the Head of Gryffindor had used to take Lily and Severus' picture. He'd not noticed Minerva taking this one, but he could guess exactly when she'd taken it, a few seconds before she'd transformed into a cat, when they'd been coming back from the clearing.

In the photo, a smiling Snape, strangely relaxed and satisfied, walked beside a just as radiant Harry, an arm around his shoulder. The photo was so natural and gave off such an impression of peace and serenity that Harry felt his throat constrict. Putting a moment in a bottle. It _was_ possible, after all. McGonagall had done it.

A wave of deep gratitude swept over Harry as he placed the photo on the bedside table, in plain sight, leaving the light on.

For McGonagall, for Severus, for that moment, for fate perhaps… For having given him that little moment, even if it were to never happen again.

But he had a strong intuition that he would happen again. A smile on his lips, the image of the photo engraved on his eyes, now closed, Harry fell into a peaceful sleep.

On the other side of the corridor, Severus Snape had followed a regimen very similar to that of the young Gryffindor, with a very different result.

Hot shower or not, Severus never managed to relax at the idea of having to sleep. Appreciating such a position of weakness was quite simply inconceivable to him, but it was also the noise of crumpled paper that reminded him of the presence of Draco Malfoy's letter in his pocket.

Groaning, he finally decided to tear it open, and took out a piece of carefully calligraphied parchment.

'_Snape'_, the letter began.

In short, an ordinary start, but as he read the following sentence, Snape felt his throat constrict.

No, there was nothing ordinary about this letter, even for a student like Draco Malfoy. He'd been wrong to wait to read it, after all. He already knew that sleep would evade him this night.

* * *

_A lot of thanks to Raewhit for translating this enormous chapter ! I will get you new fingers for christmas, promise ;-)_

_And to all the wonderful reviewer that stick with this story! thanks guys, I love to hear from you! Not a lot of answers in this chapter, but there will be soon, and I hope you will like it!_

_Stay tuned!_


	30. Chapter 30 If You Do Not Want To Die

Chapter Thirty: If You Do Not Want To Die

The night dragged on, and Severus couldn't manage to sleep. Betraying Voldemort hadn't bothered his conscience at all, and he certainly didn't miss his former associates. Not a one of them, not even Lucius Malfoy, with whom he'd socialized since Hogwarts, and who'd initiated him into the Death Eater ranks.

Draco, on the other hand…Draco was a different story. Snape couldn't help but feel a slight tug on his heartstrings as he thought of the little blond boy who'd always run to him when he was invited to Malfoy Manor. No showy demonstrations of affection, no, for Lucius wouldn't have allowed it. But the boy'd certainly been attached to Severus, over the course of his visits, and later during his private Potions lessons. When he'd finally arrived at Hogwarts, Draco'd known more about the subject than any other student, and Snape had been proud of him.

A situation that unfortunately hadn't lasted. It was no secret to anyone that he favored the students of his House outrageously, and everyone had expected that he'd be even more partial to Draco. He'd not disappointed them, but this favoritism had cost him.

No, Draco had never been particularly modest or reasonable. Lucius had indoctrinated him too much for him to turn out to be anything other than an insufferable, superior and scornful brat. A bit of discipline and being treated as an equal of the other students hadn't done him any harm. But it was impossible, of course. Draco had played on his influence all through his school years, so sure of himself and the support of his protector. And Snape hadn't failed him…up until now.

Rubbing the parchment between his fingers, he reread the letter for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night.

'_If you do not want to die.'_

It wasn't so much the sentence itself that'd kept him from sleeping. After all, he'd received more than one death threat in his life. No, what had pushed him to reread the letter in his hands, over and over, were the questions it raised.

'_Snape,_

_If you know what' s good for you, don't set foot in Hogwarts, neither you nor your 'cat.' You are a traitor. If you don't want to end up a dead traitor, keep your distance from the Slytherins. You won't have the same chance twice. If you do not want to die, look out for yourself.'_

So many 'ifs' in such a short missive, all things considered. And this wasn't Draco's usual style, either. Not enough big sentences or wordy expressions, and the handwriting was shaky. What was he supposed to make of this? Of what, precisely, was Draco trying to warn him, and why? This letter didn't make any sense, and that disturbed Severus. Keep his distance from the Slytherins….

The threats weren't a surprise. He harbored no illusions over the feelings of the Death Eaters' children about him. Lucius could've only had one good reason for leaving his precious heir at Hogwarts while most of his friends had been exiled to Durmstrang. And Draco must've been more eager than ever for vengeance since his betrayal. Lucius most certainly intended him to have a Death Eater career. But hadn't he yet understood that his son didn't possess even the minimum of courage and loyalty necessary to stay alive for long, facing the Dark Lord? Merlin, this letter proved it! Draco was nothing but a little imbecile, but, a little imbecile whom he was going to have to be on his guard against, and that didn't please Snape.

Sighing, Snape cast a quick Tempus. It wasn't yet midnight, and he'd promised some potions to Albus. He'd hoped to be able to sleep for a few hours beforehand, but he knew he'd not manage that now. As for preparing potions, it was still what relaxed him the most, after all.

Closing his door behind him, Severus paused for a moment in front of Harry's. Not a sound could be heard. There wasn't much chance, though, that the boy was having a nightmare-free night after the day they'd had. Slightly worried, he couldn't keep from opening the door to check that all was well.

For an instant, he thought Harry hadn't been able to fall asleep either. The light was still on, and the boy was lying with his back to the door. But no, Harry was fast asleep. Severus went closer to extinguish the light at the bedside, and noticed the photo propped up in plain sight on the little table.

He stood frozen, holding his breath. When? Who? He held back a groan. McGonagall, of course, that very afternoon. So, the old magpie hadn't given up her infamous camera. It'd been a very long time since he'd been the victim of it, but he couldn't regret it this time. This photo was something…special. He would've never pictured himself this way, so relaxed and obviously satisfied with the boy… McGonagall's words sounded in his memory: _Like a hen with her brood._ Was he so transparent? Still, it was his habit to carefully control his emotions and reactions. But Harry was changing that state of affairs, without a doubt.

And in the photo, Harry seemed especially happy. Severus didn't recall having seen this expression on his face very often. More often recently, perhaps. Merlin, what had he got himself into? The boy had left the photo there, in plain sight, and had clearly fallen asleep, looking at it.

Severus felt his chest constrict. How long had it been since someone had been attached to him in this way? Oh, pointless to even consider it—outside of Lily, no one had ever been interested in him enough to keep a photo of him. Certainly not his family, and even less likely, his so-called friends. And here the boy, who'd still hated him a few weeks ago, had let him into his life to the point of…what? Jumping onto his shoulder? Keeping a photo of them? Listening to his advice? Yes, all of that, and a bit more besides…

With a sigh, Snape extinguished the lamp, pushing some strands of hair from Harry's forehead as he did.

"Sleep well."

Checking the alarm spells a final time, he left the room with one last look at the photo. If it weren't for his pride, he would've gladly asked McGonagall for a duplicate.

When Harry awakened the next morning, he was rather surprised at having passed an entire night without nightmares. That said, he'd had bizarre dreams. Something about Remus and wolves, a huge black wolf. About Snape as well, who seemed furious with Remus, without Harry knowing why, as he tried to get away from the werewolf. And McGonagall kept telling Severus not to give him any milk or fishcakes because they weren't good for him. And hadn't there also been a question about mice at one point? Shaking his head, Harry cast a Tempus. Six o'clock. He was up early this morning. Maybe even early enough to get to the kitchen ahead of Severus.

A quick shower later, the boy slipped into the kitchen, which he found still empty, to his great satisfaction. He thought for a moment of using his old Muggle methods, but Snape was right; he should practice. Sighing, he took a loaf of bread and cut off a piece of it.

"_Victus Coccere."_

A cloud of smoke erupted from the toast, which ended up as black as coal. Groaning, Harry cut another slice of bread. "_Victus Coccere,"_ he said with as little conviction as possible.

It wasn't perfect, but the toast was a bit more edible this time. Three others were done before Severus made his entrance, alerted by the smell.

"Is this an attempt to set the Manor on fire? There are much more efficient ways of doing that."

"It's an attempt at breakfast," the boy protested. "Did you ever think of buying a toaster?"

"Brilliant idea. If you overlook the fact that there isn't an electric line within thirty kilometers of here, of course."

"Small detail," Harry murmured as he burned another slice of toast under the professor's watchful eyes.

"Use less arc in your gesture," Snape directed. "Relax your fingers—your wand's not going to fly away. That's better. You got up early this morning; no nightmares, I assume?"

"No, but I had some fairly weird dreams. You were in them, and you weren't in too good of a mood," Harry replied as he handed him the toast.

"What a surprise," Snape said sarcastically. With a few motions, he made a complete breakfast appear and pushed Harry toward the dining room.

"It's still a bit annoying," Harry sighed. "I'm the one who's supposed to have the most powers, and I can't even make three pieces of toast, while you make an entire meal appear in two seconds."

"Eat. I'd rather you not poison yourself with your own food just now," Severus answered. "You just need practice. Or a house-elf."

"Oh, that last, I have one too many," the boy grumbled, becoming even gloomier.

Snape blinked rapidly. "Kreacher. That's right. He's still at Grimmauld Place, I assume."

"I rather think he took refuge at the Malfoys'. That'd be best for him. If I put a hand on that dirty little rat, his head will end up on the wall, along with his ancestors', before he has time to say 'Mudblood.' It'd be a good chance to try out that spell you showed me, _Sectumsempra._ It seemed interesting."

Severus felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, at the sight Harry's little smile as he said these words. And that expression on his face…he was quite sure he'd never seen it before.

"Harry, he's only a house-elf," he pointed out calmly.

"No, he's a traitor and a murderer. But I suppose he belongs to me, now that I've inherited Sirius' house. Too bad for Kreacher, really."

No, Severus definitely didn't like this attitude. And this sudden change of mood didn't bode well at all. Was it just an impression, or had the pictures on the wall just started to shake?

"Kreacher behaved in a totally vicious manner, unworthy of his race, but he was pushed to it, Harry. By his long isolation, and by the way Sirius treated him after he returned to Grimmauld Place."

"That's what you say!" Harry ground out, his eyes fiery. "And the way you treated Sirius? You told him constantly how useless he was, when he hated being cooped up in that horrible house with that insufferable elf! He would've never gone to the Ministry if you hadn't endlessly thrown that in his face!"

"I thought that was Kreacher's fault," Snape said sarcastically, trying to hide the sudden twitching in his hands. The magic in the room was now palpable, and far from being light magic. A bowl crashed suddenly to the floor, shattering into pieces, without the boy even noticing. His eyes narrowed, Harry didn't seem to be aware of anything but his anger any longer. Accidental magic, Snape concluded, and tainted with Voldemort's. These mood swings and this violent anger weren't normal for Harry. Best not to make matters worse, and let the boy calm himself, if that were possible.

"Oh, that makes you happy, doesn't it?" Harry went on, unable to stop himself. "You hated him. It was a good revenge, for sure: killed for nothing by Bellatrix. I hate her," he growled, striking the table with is balled-up fists. "When I've learnt to control my powers, I'm going to look for her, and I'll find her, and then… She'll regret having ever raised her wand to anyone."

"That gives you quite a few people to kill," Severus noted lightly. "Kreacher, Bellatrix, myself…"

Harry seemed to suddenly emerge from his trance, and looked at him, wide-eyed. "That…that's not what I meant to say!"

"Really?" Snape asked.

"You know it isn't!" the boy retorted. The pictures on the walls were shaking again.

"Sticking someone's head on the wall, even that of a house-elf, though, implies certain death."

"Yes, I mean, not you… Oh, you know very well what I mean!"

"Indeed." Severus got up stiffly. "Join me downstairs when you've finished eating; we have certain things to discuss."

Leaving his breakfast hardly touched, he strode from the room purposefully. He didn't want to risk Harry's powers breaking out in a burst of anger, but he certainly wasn't going to participate in this game. The boy needed some time to calm himself and think about what he'd just said, and Severus was going to leave him to it.

If he had to undertake the discussion to come with Harry on the defensive, and ready to jump up at every word, the Manor very well might not survive. Without a backward glance, he shut the door behind him.

Alone in the dining room, Harry stared at his teacup, frustrated and unhappy. He'd never thought of killing Snape, bloody hell, of course he hadn't. He didn't even know anymore why he'd got so worked up to start with. Ah, yes, Kreacher. Oh well, Kreacher deserved death, and Snape knew it.

Oh, but Severus really liked the elves, according to Dobby. And this one had got Sirius killed; Snape could only like him.

No, no, he caught himself, Snape wasn't like that. Or was he? In any case, accusing him of having caused Sirius' death had been unfair, and Harry felt a wave of remorse wash through him.

He had the right to hold it against Bellatrix and Kreacher, but not Snape, not after what he'd done for Harry. Even if Snape had wanted Sirius to die, Harry didn't have the right to reproach him. He was going to have to apologize to the professor.

Sighing, he pushed away the rest of his breakfast. He really wasn't hungry anymore. Time to join Snape in the laboratory and put an end to of all this straight off; he didn't like this heavy feeling in his chest that'd been there since the professor left. He quickly vanished the plates and food from the table, then headed toward the dungeons, his footsteps heavy.

Severus hadn't wasted any time, he noted. Several cauldrons were in the process of boiling, and the professor seemed absorbed in the reading of a formula, of which he was carefully following the instructions.

Harry hesitated on the threshold for an instant before going in. "Listen, I'm sorry," he offered.

But Severus stayed silent.

"I shouldn't have talked to you like that, I regret it, really. Your relationship with Sirius is none of my business."

Once again, a long silence. Still a bit annoyed, Harry leant against the wall, his heart racing. What was Snape waiting for from him? Let him give him a punishment, if that could appease him. Finally, Snape turned to face him, his eyes inscrutable.

"And Kreacher, Harry? Was his relationship with your godfather any of your business?"

"You know very well what Kreacher did; you said it yourself earlier, it's unforgivable!" the boy shouted.

"I said that it was vicious," Snape corrected. "And traitorous. And cowardly. What he did is inexcusable, but not incomprehensible. You have a right to be furious with him, Harry; he hurt you by betraying someone you loved. But now, you hold his life in your hands, and killing him won't make you any less a murderer."

"I don't want to kill him," Harry admitted reluctantly. "But he deserves to die. I'll send him to Hogwarts like you suggested; I just hope the other elves will treat him like he deserves."

"Meaning, how Sirius treated him?" Severus continued.

"That's not fair. Sirius wasn't that bad with him. He simply despised being there, and Kreacher constantly insulted him and told him he would've preferred his mother to be there."

"Kreacher was a slave, a being bound, body and soul, to a family and a house. He had no choice over his actions, or very little; his only reason for living was to serve someone, and someone who didn't respect or appreciate him. Do you find that fair?"

Harry swallowed hard. "I…I don't know," he replied. He hadn't considered things this way. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the professor reflexively lift his hand to his forearm. His Mark…_to have no choice over his actions…to serve someone who didn't respect him…_ It was a good summary of a Death Eater's life, wasn't it? Snape's, in particular. But Sirius hadn't been like Voldemort, and Harry wasn't either!

Severus seemed to have followed his train of thought, for he interrupted him in an almost gentle voice. "Kreacher had no choice, at any time, in what his life was, and his allegiances. Except for what led to your godfather's death, obviously. Don't be so quick to judge him, Harry. Everyone needs a bit of compassion."

"Even Bellatrix?" Harry asked, his teeth clenched, still refusing to meet the professor's eyes.

"That's different," Snape sighed. Going to Harry, he set a hand on his shoulder and led him to his armchair, before settling himself in the one opposite. "Bellatrix had a choice, and she chose to become a murderess and even worse. The woman is probably no longer in possession of all of her faculties. But be that as it may, she is fundamentally evil and perverse. She deserves to be punished."

A gleam flashed through the boy's eyes.

"That doesn't mean it's up to you to play judge and jury," Snape finally said, emphasizing each and every word.

But Harry shook his head. "This is Bellatrix! Wouldn't you do it if you had the chance? An _Avada_ and it'd all be over? Don't you dare tell me you wouldn't do it!"

Severus took a deep breath. "That, and probably a Cruciatus before it, if I had the time, because of what she did to you," he said at last.

Harry's eyes were at once defiant and uncertain now, but at least he was looking Snape in the eyes.

"Is that what you want, Harry?" he asked, his voice tremulous. "To become like me? Resemble a Death Eater who has nothing to lose, even his soul? If I want to look after you, it's not so you can follow in my footsteps—just the opposite. You are someone of character, but you often do not reflect enough, and you must learn that your actions have consequences. But that lesson, I think, is starting to sink in…whatever the circumstances, you must not let anger and hatred cloud your judgment. Bellatrix deserves death, and she'll certainly get it, but it's not up to you to take care of it."

"No, my own job is to kill Voldemort," the boy said dejectedly. "Which will make me a murderer anyway."

"Yes, you'll have to do it," Snape agreed soberly. "But when that day comes…why will you do it?"

"To stop him, of course," Harry replied, shuddering. "He's monstrous and if he were to take power… I'm the only one able to stop him; I have to do it. He's already done enough harm as it is. And so he has to pay. For my parents, for Sirius, for the Longbottoms…"

"The list is long," Severus interrupted him. "But your first reason was perfectly valid. It's especially unfair that you're the one to do it, but it would appear that you have no choice. You can only choose the way you'll accomplish this task…and it must not be with hatred and bitterness, Harry. Be a hero, not a righter of wrongs."

The boy looked at him with his big green eyes, so expressive, looking so much like Lily's…but Lily had never had this suffering and fatalism in her eyes. Harry shouldn't have had them either.

"Is that what you want me to be? A hero?" the boy breathed out.

"I want you to be proud of yourself. I want you to be able to look yourself in the mirror when all of this is over and tell yourself that you did your best, whatever the outcome. I want you to stay true to yourself," Severus replied firmly. "But know that whatever happens, I'll be with you."

"Even if…" Harry choked out. "Even if I would become like him, like Voldemort?"

"You wouldn't become like him," Snape answered. "You have nothing in common."

"But if that happened?" Harry insisted. "There are times when I feel so angry that I'd do anything to make it stop, for him to not be able to do anything to people that I know anymore, to no one. I think I could easily kill in those moments. And you're right, that'd make me a murderer."

"I'm here to keep that from happening," Severus said gently. "And I'm convinced that you'll know how to make the right choices when the moment comes. But even if that had to happen, Harry, even if you had to become the new Dark Lord. Yes, I'd still be there for you. Because I know that's not what you want, and because I promised you to never leave you. Is that agreeable?"

It seemed as if the boy's eyes got even bigger, if that were possible. And they were perhaps a bit damper than they'd been the moment before. Well, the message had been received, at least in part.

"I…yes. Thanks. Really, I mean. I'm sorry about what I said earlier, about Sirius. I know you had nothing to do with that. If I'd not been so stupid to begin with…"

"Harry, that's enough. You had nothing to do with his death, no more than you do with the attacks on me. Yes, I certainly was wrong to go after Black the way I did. It was revenge, pure and simple, and it was completely inappropriate. It certainly didn't make me feel any better, and I didn't gain anything from it either. But no, I don't think that played an actual part in his death. He wanted to save you, and nothing could've convinced him otherwise. He was deeply fond of you, and for that reason in particular…." He took a deep breath. "For that reason, I must say Sirius Black's become a likable person to me. I regret that it took his death for that to happen."

The boy's dumbfounded expression made that confession wholly worthwhile.

"You mean you forgave him?" Harry asked.

"As he told you himself, he was young and very stupid. He remained rather impulsive, and I don't think we'd have ever got along if he'd lived, but yes, I forgave him. Just as I did James, for the same reasons. I couldn't hold a grudge against them when they were so fond of you, I suppose. And I have reason to believe that in their own way, they no longer held things against me either."

Harry was quiet for an instant, thoughtful. "You mean the cemetery? They helped you…"

Snape nodded. "They helped me save you, and that wasn't the first time Black had come to my rescue in that form. A few days before that, I was saved from Voldemort's wrath by the specter of a dog, and your mother. I wasn't entirely sure I hadn't dreamt it at the time, but I think it's clear now. And if there's one thing of which I'm sure, it's that the blasted mutt wouldn't want you to feel guilty about his death, or for you to become bitter because of him. Black cared for you, Harry. Really."

"I know," Harry said, a lump in his throat. "He wanted me to come and live with him, you know. He'd given me…" But he realized he couldn't go on. Not if he wanted to hold on to a shred of dignity. Snape seemed to understand him, though, for he got up without a word to come and sit on the arm of Harry's chair, then pulled him against him. Before he realized it, the boy had buried his face in the familiar-smelling black cloth, and closed his eyes, hardly aware of the hand gently stroking his hair and his neck with a soothing motion.

It wasn't until a few minutes had passed that Harry noticed the slender fingers were wiping something wet from his cheeks. But he didn't have the heart to feel ashamed. If Snape had nothing to say, if he could accept that he was sad about Sirius, then… He felt a heavy weight leave his chest. Snape wasn't upset with him, or Sirius either. His godfather had helped Severus; he'd been with them that night in the cemetery.

Was it possible that for once in his life, something wasn't going to turn out all wrong? His parents and Sirius approved of his relationship with Severus, and Severus didn't hate the Marauders anymore. He smiled in spite of himself. Yes, things could turn out less complicated than they seemed sometimes. Little miracles did happen.

He allowed himself an instant of solace in being comforted this way, before straightening and wiping his face with a sleeve. "Sorry," he said automatically.

"You have no reason to be," Severus replied calmly. "Go out and get some air. Come in when you're feeling better; we'll need to talk."

"About what?" Harry asked, disconcerted. Even more to discuss? He wasn't sure he wanted to go on spilling out his emotions onto the laboratory floor; this little session had drained him.

"Formalities to sort out. Go out and clear your mind, take you broom if you like. I have some potions to finish. Go and have some fun, Harry. You've really not had the chance up until now. But remember not to go too far, and keep to a reasonable height. No stupid stunts either; this isn't the time for you to go and break your neck."

Still a bit stunned, the boy nodded. As he went up to his room, he wondered which formalities the professor wanted to discuss. His return to Hogwarts? His guardianship? Or maybe it was about what'd happened at Malfoy Manor?

Shaking his head, Harry grabbed his broom and opened the window, then went out to fly as high as Severus allowed him. He'd have his answer soon enough, and Snape was right: he needed to clear his mind. Flying easily, he cast a curious look at the Manor. From this side, all the shutters were closed. The only ones that were open were the ones to the room with green curtains.

Seized by a sudden impulse, he accelerated to fly around the house, and ended up level with the room in question. One look at the ground told him that Severus was nowhere in sight. Not very likely that the professor would appreciate seeing him meddle this way, but hadn't he said to make himself at home? Or something like that..?

The windows were as dusty as they'd appeared from far away. Harry rubbed the pane with his sleeve, and bent over a bit more to better see what was hidden behind the green curtains. What he saw made him pull back abruptly, almost losing his equilibrium.

A room, a simple room…of a woman. There wasn't much doubt about that; the furnishings were tastefully decorated, the sheets a pastel shade, and the dressing table in the corner clearly suggested a feminine influence.

He leant over again to inspect the interior more closely. Pictures on the walls, the little items that were set about everywhere, the flowerless vase. Someone had lived here, had used this furniture and these things—a woman, it would seem. But who? Not his mother, that was certain. Had Snape had another companion about whom he'd didn't wish to speak? He'd claimed to have never loved anyone but Lily, but the especial care that had been put into this room told a different story. Who could've lived there?

Another question he didn't dare ask Severus. Yet, if a woman had lived there with him, that would explain certain things, starting with the size of the Manor. Had Snape perhaps wanted a large family after all? Had he perhaps even had children who'd died afterward? Or left with their mother? If she'd been a Death Eater, things would make even more sense, but Severus certainly wouldn't want to talk to him about it.

Reluctantly pulling away from the green room, Harry undertook testing a few Quidditch moves. Best that he forget what he'd seen for now. When he finally decided to land, a half-hour later, Harry had for the most part forgotten his emotions of breakfast time and the woman of the green room. He'd just made a much more interesting discovery.

Jumping from his broom, he raced down the laboratory steps.

"Severus! There's something new with my powers!" he exclaimed, before bursting out in laughter at the professor's curious expression. "My broom! I'm handling it much better, it's incredible! I can do much more complicated moves than before; it responds ten times better to my commands!"

Snape allowed himself a slight smile. The boy'd had a good time, after all. His happy expression was a delight to see. Good thing Harry wasn't ready to return to Hogwarts, though; nothing good would come of these powers so far as the Slytherin team was concerned.

"Better than with cooking, I assume?" he asked sarcastically. Once again, the boy burst out in happy laughter.

"I didn't burn anything, anyway! Do you really think it'd be a problem if I flew higher? I'd liked to be able to practice my nosedives, and the distance is a bit too short."

"Out of the question," Snape said dryly. "You'll go no higher than the roof, and your descents will be done gently or not at all! Don't give me reason to confiscate that broom."

"So, there you have it," Harry said as he rolled his eyes. "I knew I should've kept quiet."

"Quite an interesting concept, Mister Potter," Snape replied. "But totally unrealistic."

Harry made a face, admitting his defeat. "Still, you should've seen it!"

"I'll come," Severus said more gently. "The next time you go out to practice."

"Really?" the boy asked enthusiastically.

"Certainly. After what you've just told me, you don't imagine I'd still let you fly on your own?"

Harry groaned, but Snape wasn't fooled.

"I _knew_ I shouldn't have said anything."

"Put that contraption away, and sit down," Snape finally said, pointing him to an armchair. It was time to move on to serious matters. He went to retrieve a bundle of papers from the table, then returned to join the boy, whose face had suddenly clouded over.

"It's nothing dramatic," he assured him. "Formalities…but nothing very pleasant either."

Harry sank a bit deeper into his chair, his arms crossed.

"It's about the Dursleys," Snape continued. "The Muggle notary has looked over the various papers, and we've also done research of our own. It turns out that you are their only living relative, Harry. And by extension, their only heir."

The boy stiffened, his hands clenched in his tee shirt. He'd thought of everything except for that. The Dursleys? Him, inheriting their belongings? It was true—Marge was dead, and he'd never heard talk of any other family. Merlin, if they'd had any, they'd have certainly lost no time in sending him to them. But to inherit? From them? The world had gone amuck; if they hadn't died, Vernon and Petunia would've had a heart attack.

"This is a joke."

"No. It's more involved than in the magical world, even more so since you are a minor, but the rules of succession are very clear; everything goes to you."

"They would've hated that," Harry murmured. "They'd have preferred for everything to burn, before seeing me own their property."

Not only were they dead because of him, but on top of that he was going to become the legal owner of…what? Of everything they'd always denied him, in short. In a terribly twisted sense, there was a certain justice to it.

Snape seemed to be of the same mind.

"In this instance, Harry, they won't be seeing anything. They're dead, and this can mean nothing to them any longer. If you ask my opinion, it's a just recompense, after what they put you through. They would've had to make compensation to you anyway, if the trial had taken place."

The trial. Harry had almost forgotten it. What compensation could he have received for a few slaps and punches of a fist, for the discipline Vernon had inflicted on him, for having denied him sufficient food, for those years spent in a cupboard…for never having loved him?

Harry jumped to his feet, incapable of sitting any longer. Air, he needed air, he had to get out of here and quickly. In a flash, he dashed up the steps, directly into the park he'd just left. He'd barely slammed the door behind him, when he collapsed into the grass, out of breath. Breathe…breathe…

A few seconds later, he heard the door open behind him, and a murmured spell relieved him of the oppressive feeling pushing down on his chest.

"I suppose I should've suggested this before," Snape sighed as he handed him a potion.

"What?" Harry croaked.

"A calming potion. It will do you the most good."

Harry could only agree, and emptied the phial in a gulp. Severus was certainly going to think he was much too sensitive, but that was just too bad. For now, he really, really needed something to get rid of this dizziness, if he wanted to think about getting up again someday soon.

But an instant later, it was Severus who sat beside him in the grass, seeming contrite. "I regret I had to bring that up so soon, but Dumbledore contacted me last night, and time's an issue. Best to take care of it before you return to Hogwarts, for various reasons. We'll have to go sort out the details in London today."

"London?" Harry asked. "To the Ministry?"

"No, to Diagon Alley. Dumbledore refused to allow you to return to the Ministry, and Scrimgeour couldn't really disagree, after what happened when you were last there. The formalities will be addressed in the back of Ollivander's shop."

The boy nodded. "Someone reliable."

"Indeed," Snape agreed. "And it's more difficult to envision an attack in a room filled with wands."

"Oh. I suppose an Expelliarmus wouldn't be of much use there."

"You signature spell, isn't it?" Severus asked. "You should think of choosing a more offensive spell. Disarming your adversary will not suffice if more than attacks you at once."

"Are there spells that work on several people at the same time?"

Snape contemplated his answer for a moment. "Perhaps. We'll think about that later."

With a wave of his wand, he made a glass of pumpkin juice appear, and held it out to the boy. "Harry, I'm sorry about having to push you, but do you feel able to sort out these matters this morning?"

The teenager tensed visibly in spite of the potion. "What am I going to have to do? Sign papers?"

"That's about it. A matter of a Muggle procedure, contrary to Black's estate, which happened automatically. Do you already have an account at a Muggle bank?"

Harry shook his head. "No, of course I don't. I'm a minor anyway."

"Well, Dumbledore authorized me to sort out this problem. You'll have one from here on out."

"I don't want it," Harry replied. "It's their money anyway. I'd do just as well to give it to a charity or something."

"Never limit your options," Snape said seriously. "You might one day have need of Muggle money, and why not a house in a peaceful suburb?"

"Are you joking? I don't ever want to set foot in there again. I'd rather live at Grimmauld Place." He shuddered. "I don't care whether the house is sold or torn down, but I'm not going back to Privet Drive."

"Nevertheless, you have to," the professor answered. "At least once, to get your things and check how the house reacts to your presence."

"I've nothing there anymore, and the wards no longer exist. I've no reason to go there," the boy retorted.

"It's not that simple," Snape explained. "The magic instilled in that place for the past fifteen years was very powerful, and might've reacted to your aunt's passing. We must be certain before making a decision. And there will perhaps be things that you'll want to keep—photos and keepsakes of your grandparents."

But Harry shook his head.

"We'll see to that later," Snape said in a conciliatory tone. "For now, the important thing is to sign these papers. We'll make use of the trip to go buy what you need as well."

"I didn't get my list for this year…but you must have it," Harry realized aloud. "Oh, and my OWL results!"

Snape smiled. "I wondered when you were going to ask for them."

"I thought about them, but never at the right moment. Is it bad?"

"See for yourself," Severus replied, as he made an envelope appear.

Harry nervously took out the papers. "Let's see…Astronomy: A. I couldn't expect any better, I suppose, seeing what happened during the exam. Care of Magical Creatures: E. Hagrid will be happy! Oh, Merlin…there's not been any news about Hagrid, has there?"

Snape shook his head. He'd hoped to postpone the subject for as long as possible.

"You don't think…" Harry began, hesitating to form the question. "You don't think they might've already let him go? Alive, I mean…I don't' see what use they'd have to keep a half-giant."

Severus had half-thought that the gamekeeper had indeed been dead for a while, but he kept himself from saying it. "The Death Eaters never let anyone go free. They're perhaps trying to get information from him, or will use him in an exchange for money. But given his size, I think it won't be long before we have news of him."

_Dead or alive_, he thought.

Harry continued soberly, "Charms: E. That's about what I'd expected. Defense: O!" He smiled genuinely this time. "O! I got an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts!" he told the professor, who was watching him with a slight smile.

"Nothing very surprising about that, after your exploits of last year with Dumbledore's Army."

"Yes, that was good practice, since we had to count on Umbridge. Apart from Remus, we haven't really had a decent Defense professor, seeing how they change every year." Once again, Harry's face clouded over as he remembered the professor they should've had this year. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sure you'd be excellent in that position."

"No doubt about it," Snape sneered. "Continue."

Harry nodded in relief. "Divination: P. Wonderful. Like I had any intention of continuing…it's by far the most useless subject I've ever had. Herbology: E. Huh, that's a bit better than I thought. History of Magic: D. Oh. Not really a surprise. Potions: E."

He looked up to smile at Snape. "Thanks."

"It was deserved," the professor replied.

"I'm not sure about that, but…I'll try to prove it."

"And I'll make an effort not to push you to fail," Snape said calmly.

Harry was speechless for a moment, then nodded. If Severus himself was admitting it, he wasn't going to drag the matter out.

"Transfiguration: E. McGonagall didn't want to tell me! I can hardly believe this…that gives me seven out of nine OWLs!"

"Congratulations, Mister Potter," Snape said calmly. "I'm not really surprised, but it's a beautiful performance. I'm almost of the same opinion as yourself, concerning Divination; on the other hand, more of an effort in History of Magic seems to be in order. We'll work on that."

"I'll try, but I'd really prefer to concentrate on Defense. I don't' want to go on with Divination or Astronomy, nor Care of Magical Creatures, even if that hurts Hagrid's feelings. Has he already been replaced?"

"Professor Grubbly-Plank has taken his classes in his absence, but it's not been decided."

"It's really not fair. Hagrid would never hurt anyone, and everyone always seems to be against him. I wonder if the centaurs would know something? Or maybe the snakes? I could try and find some near his hut, and ask them some questions."

"They'd know nothing more than Lupin," Snape answered. "The only thing we can do right now is wait. Loki must've had his own reasons for acting that way. But knowing Hagrid's ability to get along with the worst beasts in creation…I'd say chances are on his side."

Harry nodded soberly. Distracted by his thoughts, he pulled another sheet of paper from the envelope, almost without seeing it, then read mechanically. He let out a gasp of surprise. "Quidditch Captain! I'm Captain of the Quidditch team this year! Oh, Merlin, Ron's going to be wild! When he sees my new powers…"

But he scowled immediately. "Oh, I suppose I couldn't participate in the first matches anyway. I'd best tell them to find someone else."

"On the contrary," Snape replied. "You'll be participating in all the practice sessions and matches. You must start somewhere, and you have responsibilities now. You should exercise in the park to make certain of mastering your broom, but you're going to these bloody matches."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked, disconcerted. "Don't you think it's too dangerous?"

"I'm starting to get used to watching over Quidditch matches," Severus grumbled. "And there will be a discreet Auror presence. In a sense, it's easier to keep watch outside the walls, than on the inside."

"Wow, this is really the best way to start the year—no classes, but Quidditch!"

"Don't be so enthusiastic, Mister Potter, you're going to choose your subjects today, and you'll be taking classes, one way or another."

"I should've suspected," the boy grimaced. "I'll take the subjects required to become an Auror. I think Ron picked the same ones. He could lend me his notes."

"Merlin save us," Snape murmured. "Our only hope is that Miss Granger will have enough classes in common with you."

"In my opinion, she'll be taking all of them," Harry said, disenchanted. "And definitely the ones Ron's taking anyway. When do you think I should be going back to classes?"

"We'll work on your powers so that it'll be as quickly as possible. You'll add in your classes gradually, according to you abilities. Do you have your list of supplies?"

Harry pulled a third sheet from the envelope. "Hmm, lots of books, Potions ingredients…"

"I'll be supplying those."

"…and parchment, ink and quills, as usual. I'll have to take some treats for Hedwig as well; she's going to be cross with me for abandoning her for so long."

"Have her come here if you like, but I think she'll understand. She's an intelligent owl."

"Hagrid's the one who gave her to me," Harry said thoughtfully. "He really has to come back; he'd be so happy to know that I can transform into a cat. He's the first person I met from the wizarding world. He was the one who took me to Diagon Alley for the first time."

Harry felt a lump form in his throat. Recently, he was having the hardest time keeping his emotions in check. He constantly had the impression of swinging from one extreme to the other. Rather strange, with Snape as his only companion.

"Dumbledore is doing his best to find him," Severus reassured him. "It's a bit more complicated, now that we no only have a spy in place, but things might quickly change."

"What do you mean? Another spy against Voldemort?" Harry asked curiously.

Snape nodded. "It's possible. Nothing's been done yet, and it certainly won't be easy after my betrayal. I suppose the Dark Lord's paranoia has increased."

Harry shuddered. "I'm happy you're not there anymore. How's your Mark?"

"Calm for the moment," the professor said as he rubbed his arm. "Go finish your breakfast, Harry, then get ready to leave. I'll tell Albus to arrange the meeting for this morning at eight."

Harry almost protested, but then changed his mind. He wasn't going to let Snape think he didn't have the courage. Certainly not. On the other hand, though….

"So soon?"

"The shorter the delay, the less time for the information to spread through the Ministry. I prefer not to take the risk. Voldemort has more than one person in that place."

Harry nodded. That made sense. But this reminded him a bit too much of the last gathering.

"You'll be with me, this time?" he asked in a voice where the reproach could be heard.

"Obviously, idiot child. I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. But if you prefer for someone else to go with you…"

"No, but don't leave me, all right? I don't want to go back to Malfoy Manor…I really don't."

Snape sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've already apologized, Harry, but I hope you believe me when I tell you I regret my decision of that day. On more than one account."

"You'd promised me you'd come," Harry insisted.

"And I didn't keep my word. I thought my presence would only complicate matters."

"I wouldn't have listened to what Voldemort was telling me if you'd been there."

"No, you'd have had no need to, because I am the one who would've been tasked with kidnapping you," Severus confessed. "You have reason to be angry with me, Harry. I'll certainly make other mistakes with you, but I can swear that I'll not begin with that one."

Harry nodded, vaguely frustrated. Or reassured? He couldn't decide. Still a bit surprised to see the professor sitting in the grass, Harry stood up. "I'm going to get ready. I don't think I'll be able to eat, though. Best to get this over with quickly."

Severus got up then too, brushing off his robes. "I'll alert Albus. Come downstairs to get me when you're finished."

A half-hour later, the boy took the stairs to the dungeon, his bag on his shoulder and wearing his traveling cloak.

"We're going directly to Ollivander's," Snape announced. "Afterward, we'll go for your supplies. You'll probably need new robes; those are too small for you."

"I didn't feel like I'd grown all that much, though," Harry said as he inspected his robes. "I'll need a new Quidditch outfit as well, so we'll have to go to Gringotts anyway."

"Don't concern yourself with that," Severus replied. "But think about adding protective warding."

Harry made a face. "With the broom-cursing, and the rogue Bludger… Yeah, that's probably not a bad idea."

"Good. Before leaving, here are the orders: you must stay by my side at all times, especially in the street, never out of my sight. If there's the slightest problem, transform and jump to my shoulder. If we are separated…" He held out a Muggle cigarette lighter to Harry. "You just have to activate it to get quickly back to the Manor. It's a Portkey that Dumbledore's put in place especially for you. It's a single use one, so don't activate it unless you're truly in danger, understood?"

The boy nodded.

"Keep your wand in your hand, but avoid using it. Aurors will be patrolling the Alley; there shouldn't be a problem. Any questions?"

"I don't think so. Couldn't I stay in my cat form the entire time? I mean, in the street?"

"That's unnecessary, and I don't care much for you spending your life hiding. Ready?"

"I suppose," Harry said. He couldn't help but have a bad premonition about this outing. But it was probably just apprehension. Pushing these thoughts aside, he followed Snape into the fireplace.

Ollivander's shop had definitely not changed over the years, and its proprietor neither.

"Mr. Potter, it's a pleasure to see you again. I've heard talk that your wand performed brilliantly during the Triwizard Tournament!" the man exclaimed.

Harry wasn't really sure he could call it a performance, but he nodded. "Thanks for having us, Mr. Ollivander. It's really a relief not to have to go to the Ministry again."

The shopkeeper laughed softly. "Without a doubt. Secretary Fudge is waiting for you in the back of the shop," he said with a pointed look for Snape.

Severus thanked him with an incline of his head, and preceded Harry into the darkened room. The boy soon understood the attraction of the room: the Anti-Magic spells literally radiated from the walls, protecting the hundreds of wands from outside influences.

"Ah. Professor Snape, Mr. Potter, right on the hour, of course!" the former Minister said, heartily shaking the two wizards' hands. "I regret that it's once again due to bad news, and I can only repeat my wholehearted apology for the incident last time."

Incident? Harry was ready to make a retort, but Severus beat him to it, letting out a long hiss, rather like that of a snake. "Best for you if there's no _incident_ today, Mr. Fudge, or you'll very well risk being the first victim this time."

"Come, come, threats are completely unnecessary; we're all on the same side here, are we not?"

"That remains to be seen," Harry said distrustfully.

The tension in the room was palpable, but Fudge contented himself with sighing and pulling a bundle of papers from his robes. "Really, Mr. Potter, after all the Ministry's done for you."

"Another word on this subject, Fudge, and I'll suggest Harry Potter take himself from here to the offices of the _Prophet _for a little interview about his views on the Ministry and the way they're running the war. I'm sure they'd be very interested on that account," he hissed, in a tone that suddenly reminded Harry how intimidating Snape could be.

The little man nervously laid out the papers on the table, and pushed them right beneath Harry's nose. "Here's the list of things you're to inherit. It's a matter of Muggle money, a house, sundry furniture, as you can see. All of that will remain, of course, under the trusteeship of your legal guardian, Albus Dumbledore, until you're of age."

Harry glanced quickly over the inventory. The house, the car, the money. Oh. The sum was rather large. He knew the Dursleys were comfortable, but to this point? They'd inherited from Marge, of course. He still couldn't help but feel a vague bitterness at taking it. No, the Dursleys had never been poor… But that hadn't kept them from treating their nephew like the lowliest of beggars, had it?

"What do I have to do?" he asked.

"Sign here and there. And you as well, Professor Snape," Fudge replied. "It's not entirely the standard way, but I suppose it will have to suffice."

"Indeed," Snape said dryly.

"That's all?" Harry asked, setting down the quill with ill-disguised disgust.

"Yes, for now. The deeds of ownership will be sent via Floo when everything's been sorted out. You've certainly increased your personal assets this summer, Mr. Potter," Fudge said in a tone meant to be courteous. "Off to a good start this year!"

Harry felt the dull anger that'd been simmering within him erupt like a fountain; how dare he talk of a good start, when Sirius and what had been left of his family were dead? His vision abruptly clouded over with red, and he felt the air around him begin to vibrate.

"Harry." A soft but firm voice made him jump, and he realized that Severus had put his hand on his shoulder. In front of him, his eyes bulging, Fudge seemed to be struggling to get his breath, his face deathly pale and mottled with red patches.

"Get ahold of yourself," Snape continued, his hand gripping Harry's shoulder more tightly.

The boy closed his eyes, trying deliberately to defuse the tension that didn't seem to want to abate. He had to calm down. He had to stop thinking about Fudge. About the Ministry. About Sirius. About the Dursleys.

An instant afterward, it was only natural that a black cat, its fur standing on end, jumped to the Potions master's shoulder; Snape's black eyes were still glaring at the former Minister.

"I…I…I…" Fudge began, his hands at his throat.

"You're sorry?" Snape suggested. "Perhaps you'll think twice before spewing out such inanities the next time. I think this meeting is over."

Nodding frantically, Fudge rushed from the room without a backward glance.

Severus waited a moment to let Shadow gather his wits, before placing him on the floor.

"Transform back, Harry."

The boy obeyed reluctantly. "What happened?" he asked.

"That would rather be my question to you," Snape replied. "Did you feel your powers begin to work?"

"Not really. I was just angry, and I wanted him to shut it."

"The least that can be said is that it was successful."

"Was it me who…" Harry took a breath. "…choked him?"

"Your magic, actually," Snape answered.

"But I thought there were spells in this room to hold it back?"

"Not sufficient for your new powers, apparently," the professor said simply.

"I…" But he didn't know what to say. "Will he be all right?"

"Certainly." But Snape's eyes didn't bode well.

"I didn't do it on purpose," Harry justified himself. "I didn't even know I'd done anything. I didn't touch my wand."

"Harry, you realize that your actual powers are much more dangerous and difficult to handle than before, don't you? Can you make up your mind now to understand what I mean by controlling your powers?" Then, with an annoyed cluck of his tongue, he added, "We'll talk of this later. Best to hurry and finish this, before the Aurors decide to take you into custody."

Harry paled. "I attacked the former Minister."

"Precisely," Severus replied. "And you're under Dumbledore's guardianship, who assured Scrimgeour that you didn't need the trusteeship of the Ministry. This little spectacle will certainly not help matters."

Pushing Harry from the room, he turned to Ollivander. "Has Fudge already left?"

"Yes, directly to the Ministry, and he seemed rather…rushed," the wandmaker confirmed.

Severus groaned. "We'd best hurry. Nothing out of the ordinary outside?"

"According to the Aurors, everything is quiet."

"Perfect. Thank you for having us. Onward, Harry," Severus said.

"At your service," Ollivander finished with a slight smile. "A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Potter."

With a smile for the old man, Harry left the shop, followed by a visibly tense Snape.

"Let's start with your clothing. Madam Malkin will be open at this hour."

"The Owl Emporium is on the way; I'll only be a minute."

"Hurry up," Snape said as he followed.

Rummaging in his pocket, Harry pulled out the last galleons remaining in his pouch. Just enough to pay for what he needed for Hedwig.

"I have to stop at Gringotts," he announced as the shop door. "I have my key with me."

"Don't bother with that," Snape answered. "I have what's needed."

Harry hesitated for an instant. It seemed that Snape wanted to finish up as quickly as possible.

"I'll pay you back at home," Harry offered. "I suppose Gringotts can send me some money by owl."

"It's not necessary," the professor said curtly. Then softening his tone, he added, "I'm not very good at this, it would appear, but let me take care of it, Harry. Let me take care of you. You don't have to pay for your supplies or things as simple as clothing. I know you've always done so, and that your parents left you enough to provide for your needs, but that's not normal for someone your age. Allow me to take their place in this, would you?"

Harry was struck speechless. Snape paying for him? He didn't know why this gesture seemed more personal than having saved his life, but in a way, it was. Oh, the professor certainly wasn't poor—that wasn't the question, but…Harry wasn't sure he liked this. The Dursleys had definitely never laid out a penny for him, and as soon as he'd had access to his vault, he'd taken care of his own finances and it'd worked out fine that way.

Was his independence worth the price of having someone take care of him? It really wasn't that… Rather, it was like agreeing to make things more official between them than they actually were. Was that a problem? Allowing Snape to also take charge of that? Maybe yes. But from another viewpoint, it was certainly very comforting as well.

Rejecting his offer would be to reject Snape, Harry sensed this very well. The Potions master was perhaps good at hiding his emotions, but Harry knew him well enough now to see a little glimmer of uncertainty behind those black eyes waiting for an answer.

And that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted what Severus had offered him, and if that entailed letting him pay for his supplies, well then….

"All right."

He could sense the release in the tenseness of the professor's shoulders, and knew he'd made the best choice. It was even sort of satisfying, actually. Annoying, perhaps, but comforting somewhere, there, in his chest….

And Snape, apparently, had very firm ideas about what he needed.

"You can't spend another school year with two uniforms, all told," he growled after Harry'd placed his order.

"It's what I've done up until now, and it wasn't a problem," the boy retorted.

"Which explains a great deal…you will give us five," he ordered Madam Malkin, who was watching the debate with interest.

"Five Gryffindor, then?" she asked.

"No, Slytherin!" Snape hissed. "Clearly, Gryffindor. Mister Potter didn't change Houses during the summer."

The witch glanced at him, half-incredulous, half-amused.

"And all the correct clothing to go along with them. Five red shirts, the same in white…and a green one, just for good measure," Snape added with a small smile.

"Hey, don't get carried away; I'm definitely not wearing green at Hogwarts!" Harry exclaimed in panic.

"You never know, a pledge is so quickly tested. You'll put in the same number of tee shirts, trousers…and some jeans, I assume?" he said, lifting an eyebrow at Harry. "I'll leave you to choose the colors."

"Merlin, thanks. Are you sure you don't want to take care of my underwear, while you're at it?" the teenager exclaimed.

"Cotton or silk?" Snape asked, unruffled.

Harry felt himself blush to his roots under the amused eyes of the shopkeeper…who was clearly awaiting a response. His eyes riveted to the floor, he turned toward her to mumble a few words.

"Cotton, then," the witch noted, while Harry was looking for the best way to drop through the floor. Snape, for his part, contented himself with examining the street, that insufferable little smile plastered on his face.

"And some shoes," Madam Malkin asked, "two pair for school, one for going out, and a pair of trainers?"

"Add boots and hiking shoes," Snape said. "I've no illusions about the course of this year. And two traveling cloaks, two winter ones, and two basic."

"I'm never going to use all that!" Harry protested. "Honestly, Professor, I've never needed so many things before."

Snape eyed him critically from head to foot. "There's a first time for everything. And you're still well off the mark if you want to compete with the wardrobe of a Slytherin student; Draco Malfoy, himself alone, uses a walk-in closet meant for a dormitory."

"I don't have the slightest desire to look like Draco."

"I don't doubt it," Severus replied. "But you're still going to do me the pleasure of learning how to dress correctly."

"I don't see what's wrong with the way I dress. I wear a uniform, like everyone else," the boy defended himself.

"Yes, with your shirt hanging out, a tie that's poorly knotted, and trousers that are two sizes too large. There's a huge difference between wearing a uniform and being clothed appropriately, Mister Potter."

"On that subject, Professor," Madam Malkin intervened. "Your new robes have arrived, as well as your socks. I hope the color will be to your liking this time."

"The color?" Harry asked, interested. "Which?"

"One more word," Snape growled, "and I'll make it my mission to find a cat collar with assorted muzzles!"

"Of course," the witch went on, completely ignoring the professor's threatening looks," if you have the same problems as the last time, don't hesitate to contact us. It's entirely possible that—"

"Very well," Snape interrupted her, "you'll put some in for the boy as well. Red, green and black."

"Green again," Harry said. "It's an obsession."

"Absolutely not, it's a practical matter. Wool used for green socks is much warmer than the others." With these words, Snape placed a pile of galleons on the counter and headed for the door. "Finish choosing what you need, and meet me outside."

Bemused, Harry turned to Madam Malkin. "He…he was joking, wasn't he?"

The witch burst into laughter. "I'm afraid so, as surprising as that might seem."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, confused. "Bloody hell, that was the most embarrassing shopping trip of my life."

"Oh, believe me, certain of your classmates have lived through worse; you should see the look on Mr. Longbottom when his grandmother drags him into my shop twice a year. Like the boy's being led to the slaughter… Note that what he endures isn't far from it. Professor Snape spared you his comments on your pyjamas, count yourself lucky!"

Harry let out a little restrained laugh. He doubted Snape wore pyjamas, to start with.

Whether he liked it or not, Harry left Madam Malkin's shop with more new clothes than he'd ever had in his life. Cumulatively. Another novelty he was going to have to get used to. No one had bothered themselves about his appearance up until now, even less the Dursleys, but evidently Snape took the matter seriously.

"Thanks," he said as he joined the professor. "Really. And I wear green, you know, I've done so, even at Hogwarts."

"I know," Snape replied. "I'd already noticed."

_Surprise, surprise._

"And those socks, then? What color?" the boy asked innocently."

"It's not too late to stop by the Owl Emporium again," Snape growled. "Cat flea-collar, and I'm sure they make splendid muzzles. I've also heard that Muggles tattoo their animals, on the ear, I believe?"

"All right, all right, I give up," Harry said as he laughed. "I already have a collar anyway, and it's brought me a quite a bit of luck up until now."

The professor turned to give him one of those sincere smiles that made him seem ten years younger, and Harry couldn't help but smile back. Yes, really quite a bit of luck…

As usual, the book store had packaged the class books and stationery ahead of time, and they were quickly sorted out. When they went out into the street again, their purchases sent on to the Manor by Floo, Harry thought he saw a familiar figure in the distance…Tonks! The young woman, less relaxed than usual, seemed to be scrutinizing the street carefully, wand in hand, as she discreetly hid in the shadows. He was tempted to call out to her, but that latter detail dissuaded him. When she finally turned her attention to him and caught his eye, Harry couldn't help but shoot her a friendly gesture, by way of a question. The Auror answered him with a quick wave of her hand, signing the words:

_On duty!_

Harry nodded. Snape had alerted him that the Aurors would be about. As they headed for the Quidditch shop, he noticed another massive figure that wasn't unknown to him: Mad-Eye was also on patrol, apparently. Snape saw him as well, and the two men exchanged a quick glance that made Harry decidedly nervous.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"Yes," Severus answered, pushing Harry into the shop. "But we shouldn't linger. I'm sorry; I was hoping to take you to lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, but that will be for another time. Do you have all you need, outside of your Quidditch things?"

"Yeah, I think so. I won't need anything for a long time." Even though he'd gladly have spent a little longer looking at that new broom in the window, if it'd just been up to him…

The shop was packed with merchandise, as terribly tempting as always, and it was really hard not to linger.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, new Quidditch robes, I assume? Your broom is rather new, it seems to me…"

Harry nodded. "I'll need practice and match robes. Mine have finally got too small."

"In Gryffindor colors, of course."

The boy made a face, but Snape didn't seem to notice, his attention turned toward the street. Which didn't stop him from adding, "And protective warding, the best that you have. For the broom, as well as for himself."

"Ah, certainly," the shopkeeper began. "We have certain charms in particular that—"

"Perfect, perfect, put it all in," Snape said impatiently, throwing a pile of galleons onto the counter.

The shopkeeper hurried as he took Harry's measurements, sensing his customer's impatience.

"Everything will be ready this evening," he finally said. "Where should I have them sent?"

"Snape Manor. You have everything you need?" Severus added as he turned to the boy. Then, when Harry nodded, he said, "Perfect, let's be on our way."

Snape was almost relieved. The round of shopping had passed without incident, the only living souls they'd encountered being the shopkeepers and the Aurors patrolling the Alley. But he couldn't help but be nervous…. The meeting with Fudge had turned out too badly; the Ministry wouldn't delay action, and it would be best for them to be at the Manor when that occurred.

All they had to do now was return to the Leaky Cauldron for their Floo connection, and they'd be safe at last. According to Mad-Eye, the way was clear and nothing suspicious had marred their visit. But he sensed the old Auror didn't believe this any more than he did. So much for the potions ingredients he lacked; he'd order them by owl. Going out into the street ahead of the boy, he glanced quickly around them.

"It's really empty at this hour, I've never seen Diagon Alley so quiet," Harry commented.

"Probably because you always come at the start of term. The Alley is usually busy in the afternoon and evening, when the eateries are open. Especially in summer when—"

But Snape didn't have time to finish the sentence. As they turned in the street, a muffled _crack_ rang out, and a large from appeared a few feet from them, before dashing forward in a whirlwind of dust.

Something really wasn't right, Severus had the time to think, before casting a Stupefy toward their attacker. An instant afterward, he understood what was wrong: it wasn't a wizard who'd just Apparated in front of them, but a supernatural-looking wolf that seemed much too intelligent for its own good…and theirs.

The animal agilely dodged the spell, before darting forward again, throwing itself, teeth bared, toward Harry, who'd not drawn his wand.

Severus swore. Where were the Aurors when they were needed? He wasn't going to have enough magic to hold the wolf back for long, not to mention this one that was the size of a small calf. There was at least one spell that he wouldn't risk missing with.

"_Protego!"_

Once again, a large green shield surrounded Harry, who was paralyzed by the sight of the animal advancing toward him, as it tried to find a flaw in the shield.

A wolf, an enormous white wolf, growling as it bared its teeth into what almost resembled a smile. A very human and especially malevolent smile. It was totally surreal, he thought briefly. They were in the very middle of Diagon Alley, and the animal was much too large, much too white, and moved much too intentionally. But Harry didn't have time to deliberate any longer.

Changing tactics, the wolf turned toward Snape, an almost amused gleam in its eyes, before leaping toward him, aiming for the hand holding his wand.

Snape didn't waste any time: dodging quickly to the side, he trained his wand on the beast. He was going to need a few seconds if he wanted to be able to cast the spell he had in mind, but he doubted one of his Stupefys would be enough to stop this wolf. Harry surely would've been able, but it was out of the question for the boy to use his powers, not now. Seeing that the animal was about to spring again, he rushed to insert himself between it and the boy, and immediately found the solution to their problem. The Protego he'd cast was amazingly solid, enough to give him the several seconds' delay his spell required.

Harry saw the professor take a step backward, and understood right away, when the green light of the shield encompassed him too, out of reach of the huge wolf that was bout to spring forward again. The animal gathered itself and jumped, aiming for Snape, who'd started to hiss, more than speak, a long incantation that gave Harry goose bumps. Something in the hissing of these words he didn't understand sounded terribly mournful…and dark.

The spell hit its target this time, and the result was instantaneous: the wolf stopped, as if frozen in place, before beginning to twist, growling and screaming under the effect of intense pain. An instant later, he seemed to be sucked out through the space where he'd frist appeared, and disappeared with a sinister _crack_, then the street became quiet once again.

The shield ceased to glow before disappearing, and the sound of hurried running replaced the animal's muffled growls.

"Snape! What was _that?_" Tonks cried as she joined them with her wand raised, Mad-Eye on her heels.

"Your incompetence in action, obviously," Snape hissed, clearly exhausted by the rapid altercation. "I must take Harry to Hogwarts, and quickly!"

"More quickly than you think," grumbled Moody. "We've just received the order to take Harry to the Ministry immediately."

Snape glanced distrustfully at the Auror. Then, without shouting out a warning, he took the step that separated him from the boy, and Disapparated with him before the two Order members had time to react.

The Manor laboratory materialized around them, and Severus leant against the nearest armchair with a groan of frustration.

Without wasting any time, Harry rushed to the table where the professor's potions were always kept. Strength…magic… When would Snape be able to do without potions, then? The quick fight and Apparition had been enough to empty his reserves, and Harry hated that at least as much as Snape did.

He held the potions out to the professor, who quickly downed them. "I'm happy you obeyed me, Harry. That you didn't try to fight. That would've only complicated matters."

The boy blushed. "I…I didn't think, I didn't have time to react, or… I don't know. I'm sorry."

"On the contrary, it was perfect," the professor said as he distractedly ran a hand through the teenager's hair. He was probably too drained to realize what he was doing, Harry thought, stunned, but he didn't appreciate the gesture any less.

"We must go to Hogwarts. I must speak to Dumbledore…and to that moron Lupin immediately."

"Severus, what was it?" Harry finally asked, hardly recovered from the event. An enormous white wolf right in the middle of Diagon Alley, at this hour. This could hardly be a conincidence.

"That," the professor said as he threw a handful of Floo powder, "that was Loki."

* * *

A lot of thanks to Raewhit for the translations, and to the wonderful reviewers who managed to read the last chapter ( it was a bit long, wasn't it?)


	31. Chapter 31 Shadow Snape

Chapter Thirty-One – Shadow Snape

By chance, Remus and the Headmaster were both in the infirmary when they arrived at Hogwarts, with Snape more on edge than ever.

Followed by a markedly worried Harry, he entered the dormitory where Remus was, his robes billowing out furiously around him.

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted him. "I was hoping you'd visit. I've been led to understand that the meeting didn't go as well as we'd hoped."

"That excursion almost turned into a catastrophe," Snape growled. "And not only because of Fudge."

Turning to Remus, he added, "Your dear Loki attacked us right in the middle of Diagon Alley, no less!"

Remus' face crumpled at the words. "Loki? Are you sure?"

"Do you know many wolves capable of Apparition?" Snape asked sarcastically.

"Was he wounded?" the werewolf asked anxiously.

"Who? Harry?" Severus asked, the threat clear beneath the sarcasm in his tone.

"I…" Remus paled again. "Are you all right, Harry? You seem to be intact."

"Severus defended me," the boy agreed. "The wolf couldn't hurt me."

Distraught, but unable to hold himself back, Lupin turned to Snape again. "And Loki?"

It was Severus' turn to show his teeth in a grimace that was almost more menacing than the wolf's had been. "I sent him back to where he'd come from. I doubt he appreciated the treatment, but I neither wounded nor killed him. And believe me, I regret it."

"Thanks, Severus. I know it doesn't seem very clear just now, but I'm really grateful to you. Merlin, I'm so very sorry," Remus said in a pitiful voice.

"Oh, I'll leave you no illusions, Lupin," the professor growled. "If that animal crosses my path again, I won't waste my time by putting him in a cage. I'll kill him on the spot, without hesitation."

It was Dumbledore who broke the tension as he raised an appeasing hand. "That would not be reasonable, my boy. You reacted perfectly today. Might I ask where the Aurors were during the attack?"

"A bit further down the street. Loki attacked us at a bend in the street, just before the Leaky Cauldron. The Aurors arrived almost immediately. Have you already heard from them, Albus? They wanted to take Harry away with them, and I had to quickly Disapparate so their loyalties wouldn't be called into question in high places."

"Indeed," sighed the Headmaster. "Harry, would you be averse to keeping Remus company while Professor Snape and I discuss a few formalities in my office?"

"Excuse me?" the boy retorted as he crossed his arms. "Would I mind stepping meekly to the side while you discuss my fate? Yeah, I'd say so, a great deal! I understand very well that something went wrong, and I'm not going to let you decide things for me without my knowing anything!"

The Headmaster's eyes flashed, but it was Snape who spoke, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We truly have matters to discuss, Harry, and certain of them do not concern you. Others, yes, and I promise to keep you apprised as much as is possible. We're not trying to hide anything from you, only protect you. Can you accept that?"

Harry thought this was very close to emotional blackmail…but what else could he say? "Don't make decisions without me, all right? I'm old enough to have a say in this."

Snape solemnly nodded, and Harry reluctantly did the same.

Without a word, the two wizards left the room; the boy fell heavily into a chair by Remus' bed. "I hate when they do that," he grumbled.

"Do what?" Lupin asked. "Ask you to be reasonable?"

"No, manipulate my emotions!" Harry said exasperatedly. "It's really annoying; he knows very well I won't be able to say no."

"You don't know how to say no to Snape because he speaks nicely to you? Things have really changed," Remus said, letting himself fall back onto the pillows, a slight smile on his face.

"That's just the half of it," the boy sighed.

"Harry, is everything all right?" Lupin asked with a frown. "You don't' seem very content."

"Yes, of course I am. It's just I've had enough of never being allowed to decide anything. This matter with the Ministry—I know that's going to turn out badly. Dumbledore is my guardian for now, but that's only temporary. Severus says that Scrimgeour has dreams of keeping me under his thumb with a Ministry trusteeship. And it's not only that, I can't even go to Diagon Alley for my things without it turning into a catastrophe! I almost killed Fudge, and that Loki almost got _me_ killed!"

Taking a deep breath, Harry fastened his eyes on his professor's. "Who is he, Remus? Loki? Why don't you want Severus to hurt him?"

Once again, Lupin seemed to have extreme difficulty meeting and holding Harry's eyes. "It's someone I knew long ago and lost track of until just recently," he replied.

"A wizard, then?" An Animagus like me?"

Remus hesitated an instant. "More or less. I can't say more, Harry, I'm sorry. It's one of those times when knowing more will do you more harm than good."

Frustrated, Harry shook his head. "You all say that and it's just not true! Severus seems to be starting to understand, at least."

Remus jumped at the chance to change the subject. "Harry, what exactly is going on with Professor Snape? The Headmaster told me certain things, but I'm not sure I've understood. You're living with him now?"

"Yeah, for now. Maybe afterwards as well." He took a moment to put his thoughts in order. "I get on with him very well, you know. Everything really changed this summer, Remus; I know it's hard to believe, even for me sometimes, but so many things have happened."

"Too many, perhaps," Lupin suggested.

"Probably," Harry sighed. "He's just saved my life again. It feels like he does that all the time."

"That's what I wanted to address, Harry, all that happened this summer, the horrors you lived through. You feel a debt towards Severus, and that's completely noble on your part. But maybe you're taking things too much to heart?"

"Listen, it's not like that," Harry said. "He protects me and he's there when I need him. It's not just because of Voldemort, or because of what I'm supposed to do, you understand. When Voldemort tried to steal my powers, he almost succeeded, and Severus was there to support me the entire time. And he told me…that it wouldn't be so serious if I didn't have anymore powers. That he'd always be there for me, no matter what. And that—that means a great deal. Everyone seems to be counting on the fact that I have to fight Voldemort. Severus just wants me to be myself, I think."

"Harry, I don't know what to think," Remus said gently. "You mustn't forget that Snape is an accomplished spy; he knows how to manipulate people expertly, and fake certain things…what you want to hear. He's done that all his life; he's a Slytherin, the head of Slytherin, and besides…an ex-Death Eater. I don't mean that's his intention, but he certainly has the capacity for it."

"It's not what you think!" Harry protested. "Too many things have happened, I know him now, without even considering…" He thought of the day when he'd entered the professor's mind and sifted through his memories, felt his emotions…but Severus certainly wouldn't have wanted him to tell Remus that. "I know him, all right? And Mum knows him too. And James and Sirius. They came to help us, to help Severus. Did you know that he and Mum went out a few times when they were at Hogwarts?"

Lupin slowly nodded, his demeanor grave. "Dumbledore explained that episode to me as well. Harry, is that why you think all of this? Because Lily took you to him when you were wounded? I know your mother loved Severus deeply, even more than James and Sirius ever knew…or Snape either, probably. But that doesn't mean he's the best person to take care of you, Harry. Severus has become a wholly ambitious and bitter person. He's changed since the time when Lily knew him, and I'm not sure for the good. I'm not saying he doesn't have his good points or qualities, but it's hard for me to imagine him in the role you're so determined to give him, Harry. It's hard for me to think he doesn't have ulterior motives."

There was more contempt in these words than Remus would've liked, and he regretted it when he saw the boy get up and take a step backward, his face pale.

"Severus has never said a word against you, Remus. He's never forbidden me to see you, or anything else. I can't believe you could say all this after…after…didn't Dumbledore tell you? He can't be the Defense professor because he doesn't have enough powers anymore, because he sacrificed himself for me, to protect me. He could've died!"

"But he's not dead, and you're eternally grateful…" Remus pointed out. Softening, he added, "Forgive me, Harry, I'm tired and my words haven't been well thought out. I don't want us to be angry with each other over Severus."

"If we're angry with each other, it'll be your fault," Harry said tersely, his arms crossed on his chest. "I won't stand for you talking about Severus like that, Remus. He's part of my life, and I want that to go on. I'd even like for him to…"

He shook his head. "I understand you're tired, and you've just come back from a mission; it must be hard for you. But you'll have to get used to this, because Snape is my guardian now, and I don't want that to change."

"I only want you to be happy, Harry," the werewolf said calmly, his gold eyes glimmering softly.

"I'm happy at the Manor," the boy answered. "I know I should be too old for this…to want someone to be there when I have a nightmare, or carry me off to bed, or even watch over me, or buy me robes and parchments for the start of term, but…" He shrugged. "But I want those things, and Severus is there for all of that. And he does it well…really well."

Harry couldn't hold back a smile. Yes, Snape was playing his role very well, even when it involved stepping aside himself, for Harry's own good. And Harry obeyed him, without protest, because he trusted him, deep down. It was right this way, too. It was what a father did, after all, or what one would've done.

He swallowed hard and turned to look at Remus, who'd continued to watch him, his eyes thoughtful now.

"This is really important to you, isn't it?" He sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry, I suppose I can understand. After all that went on with the Dursleys and Sirius. You have no memory of Lily and James, so you can't understand why I regret that you didn't have the chance to grow up with them."

"Yes, I understand," Harry protested.

"No, you don't understand what I mean," Lupin insisted. "But if you've found someone who can support you like you want, I can only be happy for you, Harry. Whoever it is."

The boy nodded. "So, try to get along with him, please. At least don't argue, especially about me. Because I don't want to choose between the two of you, all right?"

"Yes, I understand perfectly." Remus gave him a sad, little smile. "That said, I doubt Severus is ready to welcome me with open arms."

"He'll make an effort if I ask him."

Remus laughed softly this time. "You have him wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh himself. "I don't think so…maybe just a bit? Don't tell him that, all right?"

"No," Lupin replied. "I wouldn't want to tarnish our dear Potions master's reputation. But promise me one thing, Harry. Be careful. I'm not saying Severus is pretending to be something he isn't, but try not to forget he wasn't always this person, especially with you."

Harry felt gloomy at these words. He wasn't at risk of forgetting this, and Remus was only putting words to his own fears. If Severus changed his mind again and became…Snape once more? But that was unthinkable just now, and he had every intention of making the most of it, even if it only lasted a short time.

Because, he thought, those moments would perhaps be the only ones of his childhood that resembled living in a family.

***

"Albus, you've lost your mind!"

"No need to lose your temper, Severus. First, listen to what I have to say."

"No chance that I'll let that animal attack Harry again without reacting!" the Potions master said indignantly, as he paced in the Headmaster's office.

"I'm not asking you to do nothing; your reaction today was wholly adequate, from all points of view. But we can't risk Loki's life, not now when he presents such potential."

"All of that is according to Lupin, and I have absolutely no confidence in him!"

"You're wrong," Dumbledore replied. "Remus can be very astute and diplomatic."

"But to go from that to playing a double agent? I don't believe it. Lupin is naïve and sentimental. He'll think only of Loki and fixing his mistakes."

"One will not preclude the other, if all goes well. It would even be the ideal solution."

"It's much too risky, Albus," Snape pleaded. "Loki is uncontrollable, even Lupin agrees on that point. And what's more, very disagreeable."

"I hold to my thinking that no creature is beyond redemption, nor totally corrupt," Dumbledore said gently.

"Even Tom Riddle?" Snape hissed. "Even Voldemort? You persist in repeatedly giving more chances to people who're not worth the trouble."

"By splitting his soul, Voldemort breached a frontier from which one does not return. Such is not the case with Loki. And even less with Remus. Severus, he also has the right to a chance."

But Severus shook his head. "Not at Harry's expense."

The Headmaster sighed. "As for Harry…things have been complicated by this morning's incident. The Minister didn't waste a minute; he wants to revoke Harry's guardianship and pull him out of Hogwarts, so as to not put the other students in danger."

"I suspected as much," Snape growled. "It was too good of an excuse."

"No chance they'll think the attack came from you, I presume?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus shook his head. "I was the one to make him stop. Our roles were unfortunately very clear."

"Then I'm going to have to find a solution to buy some time. Harry should stay at the Manor for now, if you don't foresee a problem with that."

"Buying time until Harry's of age isn't a solution. A permanent way of putting him out of the Ministry's reach must be found, so he can resume a normal life as quickly as possible. He must learn to control himself, that's undeniable, but he must return to Hogwarts if he wants to recover the equilibrium necessary to face Voldemort."

"Your ideas are as good as my own, Severus. For now, I see only one way to manage that, and it won't work. Harry doesn't trust me enough for his permanent guardianship to be awarded to me. Even with all my influence, I couldn't sufficiently sway the Ministry."

"Indeed, but I was thinking of something else. Do what you can to buy some time, Albus, a few weeks. So that Harry can return to Hogwarts and resume a normal life. Find all the excuses you want…and push through my adoption request."

"Severus?" The Headmaster had frozen in place. "You're serious?"

"I couldn't be more so. Work all the angles, including the protective wards linked to the Manor, if necessary. There must be some way to spin this Animagus matter…"

"Harry would be more than willing, so far as this adoption goes, Severus. He'd be the best argument in favor of it," Dumbledore offered.

"Precisely. But I don't want Harry to be informed right away. Buy some time, Albus. Leave it up to him, so he can make his choice with full knowledge of the facts," Snape said.

"You're still not sure of his feelings on the matter?"

"He's not yet fully recovered from all that happened to him this summer. He's attached himself to something that perhaps he'll not want before too long. Neither his friends nor his enemies will easily forgive this choice…"

"And you've promised him you'll let him decide," Dumbledore finished. "That's very noble on your part, my boy, but what's become of your sense of strategy?"

"You're lecturing me about manipulation?" Snape growled. "Will you support me or not?"

There was a long silence, during which the Headmaster seemed to be measuring the Potions master with his eyes. His arms crossed, Severus bore his scrutiny.

"You love him, don't you, Severus?" the Headmaster asked softly.

"He's my cat," Snape replied without batting an eyelid.

"You didn't answer my question," Dumbledore insisted. "You love the boy now, am I mistaken?"

"Like a son."

The hoarse tone of his voice left no doubt, and Dumbledore nodded. "In that case, my boy, I've no right to stand between the two of you. I will help you—both of you."

Snape thanked him with a quick motion of his chin.

"Will you help me equally, Severus? You could teach Remus what you know, instruct him on the subtleties of spying. He's going to need all the help he can get, if he wants any chance of successfully carrying out the mission he's undertaken."

"Would you also like for me as to help him take up his position here and take care of Harry?" Snape asked sarcastically. "But I don't think he needs me for that, evidently."

"Severus, Remus isn't here to take your place, not in the sense you think. We've never needed you as much as we do now, Harry in particular," Dumbledore said soothingly.

"I can't spy anymore, my powers are more than limited, and Harry will most likely want his independence again soon. I'm not stupid, Albus, my time has passed. But I'll see what I can do for Lupin, much good it'll do him."

The old wizard smiled. "Your powers will come back; this is only temporary. And I fear you underestimate Harry. The boy has an extraordinary capacity to love, and he seems very attached to you."

Leaning against the window, his eyes far away, Snape didn't seem to hear him. "It's best for him to go back to the Manor now; the Ministry won't be long in coming."

"On that matter, it'd be preferable for you both to stay here tonight. I must be able to present Harry to the Minister if he requires it, but I promise you he won't leave Hogwarts. Besides, perhaps it'd be wise for him to remain in his Animagus form during the interview."

"Hmmm," Snape said thoughtfully. "I suppose Harry should register as an Animagus sooner or later."

"For now, I've set aside that matter by explaining to Minister Scrimgeour that Harry's situation is very precarious and that his new powers might just as well disappear from one day to the next," Dumbledore explained, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Highly unlikely," Snape said.

"Completely impossible, of course," the Headmaster agreed. "But the argument sufficed to buy a bit of time."

"Perhaps something there to play with, in that case," Snape murmured. "I wasn't supposed to have known that Shadow was in fact a wizard when I took him in. I could've very well had him registered at the Office of Magical Creatures, under my own name, and thus, he belongs legally to me."

"Which of course would be of no legal value insofar as Harry is a wizard, but which very much complicates any proceedings to place him in trusteeship to the Ministry," Dumbledore finished. "That's completely brilliant."

"But it would've had to be done at the time I didn't know Shadow's identity, which wasn't the case. Is a back-dated document out of range of your capabilities?"

"Certainly not," the Headmaster said, his eyes sparkling more than ever. "I know the head of the Office of Magical Creatures very well, and she owes me a little favor…in all discretion, of course," he said, laughing softly.

"I wonder who in the wizarding world doesn't owe you a favor," Severus said bitterly.

"Alas, very few people are capable of remembering these little details, but Melinda Pikax certainly is one of them. She's a very good friend of Hagrid's."

"Any news on that matter?" Snape asked as he turned to the Headmaster.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm afraid we must wait for Remus to be in touch with Loki again."

Severus nodded. Counting on Remus. It was indeed the most unpleasant idea he'd heard in a long time. But clearly, he himself wasn't very functional as a spy these days.

A quick motion at the periphery of is vision caught his attention. With a clumsy move of his elbow, Dumbledore had just bumped the famous crystal candy dish sitting on his desk, causing it to fall dangerously to the floor. With reflexes honed by years of practice, Snape drew his wand and pointed at the object, before changing his mind in the middle of the incantation.

The stick of wood didn't vibrate between his trembling fingers, and no magic was forthcoming as a result of his action.

Lowering his arm, he watched as the candy dish shattered into thousands of little pieces on the floor, the lemon sweets scattering across the room.

Looking up, he met Dumbledore's clear, piercing eyes. Without a word, the old wizard flicked his wand and the crystal fragments flew to reform themselves on the desk, the cracks still visible despite the repair. Certain things couldn't be entirely fixed. Snape held his breath. The Headmaster hadn't been clumsy; he'd intentionally made the candy dish fall. Was there a message here he wanted to get across? That Severus himself would never be the same again, even if he regained his powers?

Putting his wand back inside his robes, Snape felt Dumbledore's eyes on him. Was that pity in his eyes, or was it contempt? He didn't want either.

"Severus, you must rest at all costs. Your powers will not come back if you don't give them time to regenerate."

"I don't call on them any more than necessary, but that little incident this morning obviously depleted my reserves. Loki, you recall?" he ground out. "I had to use a powerful dark arts spell to get rid of him without hurting him or having to turn him over to the Aurors. An Avada would've been so much simpler and to my tastes."

"Severus, do not attempt to change the subject. You must rest yourself completely if you want to recover. Failing that, you'll be at risk of not recovering all of your abilities," Dumbledore said severely.

"I know what I have to do," Snape replied curtly.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, but didn't answer.

"I'm going to alert Harry that we're staying here tonight," Snape said finally as he looked away. "Best for him to stay in my rooms this time, if he must stay in his cat form, but he'll surely want to go up to see his friends. Can I assure him he'll be safe there?"

"Of course, my boy," the Headmaster said. "Minerva will make certain everything's in order. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything; I'll let you know when the Minster arrives."

Nodding, Severus headed for the door. "If you require nothing further…?"

Dumbledore nodded his assent, with a gesture that strongly resembled defeat.

***

Walking through Hogwarts during its busiest hour with a cat on his shoulder was a particularly instructive experience. As he'd predicted, his reputation as 'the professor with a cat' seemed to have definitely taken hold. Shadow clung firmly to his robes, casting a curious eye at the students around them.

Unsurprisingly, the Hufflepuffs found his accessory especially 'adorable', which didn't fail to make the professor grind his teeth. The tender smiles, especially those of the girls tittering and smiling behind their hands, were met with a black look that cut their simpering short.

The Ravenclaws, who stayed in the background, watched the professor and his cat, as well as the other students, with impassive but piercing looks.

The Gryffindors seemed to vacillate between amusement, indignation and a strong desire to leap and snatch Harry from his perch, but no one made a move, contenting themselves with murmuring as they passed by.

And the Slytherins…the Slytherins, of course, displayed an unfailing hostility, standing silently, letting their somber and scornful eyes express their sentiments.

But Snape quickly discovered that all of these reactions left him indifferent. No sinister attack struck them, and the crowd parted for him as it always had. Probably his more than usual threatening manner wasn't wasted.

He was nevertheless relieved to shut the door to his rooms behind them, leaving the cat to jump to the floor and transform.

"I would've liked to take a photo of their faces along the way; it was really priceless!" Harry said as he burst into laughter. "I'm a bit surprised none of the Slyterhins tried to attack me, that being said. It was clear there were a few who were dying to do it."

"I suppose it wasn't the time to risk expulsion or death by hanging," Snape replied calmly.

"Death by hanging?" Harry asked in astonishment. "You're joking—that's really done?"

"It's a figure of speech. In any case, it'd be best for you to avoid moving about the castle by yourself for now, no matter what your form. This is not the time to risk a duel. If you want to go to the Gryffindor common room, use the Floo powder in the sitting room."

Harry stopped for an instant to look around him. Snape's rooms weren't anything like the Manor, and, strangely, they seemed to fit the professor better. The sitting room where they were standing was furnished with pieces that were clearly old and intricately carved, but marked by time. The décor was somber, if not severe, but the overall effect was one of peace and warmth that Harry would soon come to appreciate. The fire in the grate was lit, and a few brass chandeliers softly illuminated the room. A large wooden bookcase seemed to be the central fixture in the room, which hardly surprised him. A few scrolls lay on the side tables, scattered amongst parchments and sundry items.

In contrast to the Manor, the place seemed obviously lived in, and Harry felt oddly reassured. Even the dark, classic paintings on the walls seemed more like Snape. They appeared to be as old and venerable as the sitting room furnishings.

He couldn't help but point this out, as Snape was perusing a parchment.

"It's really different from the Manor. Not the same style at all."

Snape looked up, clearly interested by the subject. "I'm not the one who furnished the Manor. The pieces here are family ones."

"They seem old," the boy offered.

"Rather, yes." Setting the parchment aside, Snape pointed to a door. "My room is there. You'll take the one to the side of it when everything's been sorted out, after which you'll be able to return to the tower. It will take a bit of rearranging, but it should be quickly livable."

"I should maybe go and get my things at the Manor," Harry suggested.

"Bring what you'll need for several days," Snape advised. "We should be able to go back tomorrow, but things have a way of changing quickly nowadays."

"Is there something I ought to know?" the boy asked warily.

"Nothing more than I've already told you. Scrimgeour could create problems, but Albus will watch to make sure that doesn't go too far."

"That suits me fine, as long as I only have to play at being a cat and say nothing. And as long as they don't send me to the pound."

"There shouldn't be a problem. Albus and I had a little idea that might enable us to thwart any attempt by the Ministry to take you with them, but the notion is a bit twisted and rather degrading. Keep in mind that it's only a strategy to fight the Ministry."

Harry frowned. "A strategy? What?"

Throwing a handful of Floo powder into the grate, Severus connected with the Headmaster's office. "Albus, were you able to sort out the question we spoke of?"

"Completely, my boy. I was just about to come and find you. If you'll allow me?"

Snape stepped back, and Dumbledore entered the sitting room. He quickly held out a parchment to Snape, who glanced over it as he nodded.

"Perfect. That should suffice for the moment."

"Technically, they won't have any right to take Shadow from you," Dumbledore agreed.

Harry let out an impatient groan, so Severus handed him the parchment.

"Certificate of Animal Property named Shadow; race: _feline_; markings: _black, lightning bolt on forehead; _age: _unknown._ Holder of said animal: _Severus Snape."_

Harry was stunned speechless for a moment, before bursting into laughter.

"This is completely brilliant! I can't wait to see the look on Scrimgeour's face when he reads this!"

Snape relaxed visibly. "Of course, the document will be invalidated once you're registered as an Animagus. But then again, given the circumstances, that can wait."

Still laughing, Harry gave the certificate back to him. "I have to have a copy of that; I absolutely have to show it to Ron and Hermione! They're going to be hysterical!"

"I don't doubt it," Snape grumbled.

"On that matter, I indulged myself in a little whim," Dumbledore said apologetically. His eyes gleaming with mischief, he held out a small round object to Harry.

Curious, the boy took it and examined it, before beginning to laugh even harder.

"This is perfect! Thanks, Professor, I really like it a lot!" He held it out to Snape with a smile.

A medallion, the professor realized. The same type of medallion one would find on most cat collars. And on this one was engraved '_Shadow Snape.'_ He shook his head, hesitating between feeling amused and slightly uncomfortable.

He handed it back to Harry, who wasted no time in attaching the medallion to the bracelet he always wore. With a slight flick of his wand, Dumbledore tapped the bracelet, which quickly incorporated the medallion into its links.

"You could of course use an invisibility spell in your human form, but it will be visible in your cat form," the professor pointed out.

"I don't want the inscription to be hidden. I like it," Harry said firmly with a smile for Snape, which left the professor thoughtful.

"The Minister alerted me he'll be arriving a half-hour from now. I assume Professor Snape's already informed you how to behave during the interview, Harry?"

"Stay in my cat form, don't leave Snape, act afraid if someone gets close enough to take me, and don't transform for any reason," the boy recited.

"Perfect. There's no reason for things to turn out badly, but if it does, you could always escape through the door in my office that leads to my rooms, Harry. Fawkes will see to keeping you safe."

"As long as he doesn't mistake me for a mouse… Could I stop by the Gryffindor common room this evening? I really want to see Ron, Hermione and the others. It feels like years since I've seen them.

"This evening, if all goes well," Snape agreed. "But I'd prefer for you to sleep here, just in case."

"Me too," Harry admitted. "I'm going to see Hedwig as well. Oh, I'll have to take a look at the practice schedule!"

"Ah well, it seems it'll be up to you to arrange that, Harry," Dumbledore pointed out as he laughed softly.

"That's true," he suddenly realized. "Thanks for that, Professor, I'll do my best. I'll have to get a team together quickly; the Slytherins must've already started practicing."

"I think the Slytherins will also have to reform their team, given the recent departures."

Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a knowing look.

"As for you," Severus said as he turned to Harry with a threatening glance, "Dare to beat my team and you can say goodbye to cans of tuna. Unthinkable for my Slytherins to be beaten by a common alley cat!"

"Hey," the boy protested, "not my fault if they're unable to stay on a broom! And Malfoy as Seeker, that's really a joke. Anyway, it's not as if you don't have a vested interest in Gryffindor now," he said, proudly showing off his bracelet. "I could even take that as an official player's name. 'Shadow Snape wins the Cup for Gryffindor.' That would sound good, don't you think?"

"Little snake," Snape hissed, horrified. "I find it difficult to believe that Harry Godric Gryffindor would sink to such blackmail, so unworthy of a Gryffindor! Very well, you little rat, but make your choice: win with my name, or lose against my team, but whichever the case, don't you dare fall off that bloody broom if you don't want to find it confiscated for the year."

"I'll really make them think about this name thing, you know," Harry replied with a laugh. "It'd be a good way to make the other Gryffindors accept things. They really didn't seem happy earlier, when we were walking through the castle. Well, they were probably happier than the Slytherins, I guess."

The two of them exchanged a look before falling into silence, aware of the Headmaster's presence at their sides.

Suddenly feeling like an intruder, Dumbledore coughed into his hand before taking a step toward the fireplace. "Very well, very well, Harry, keep me informed of your arrangements. Severus, I'll call you when the Minister's arrived. Be ready, both of you."

And with these words, he threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and left the sitting room.

"Well," Snape said, once he was gone, "let's get your room ready, and we'll go for your things when we're all sorted out."

Harry followed him into the room he'd indicated, one that appeared to serve as the professor's office. He saw Snape pull two phials from his robes, then discreetly drink them. He quickly recognized them from their colors: energy and magic-strengthening potions.

"Professor, I can do it, if you want," the boy offered. Severus looked at him skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"Really? You know how to transfigure an armchair into a bed?"

"I don't know," Harry confessed, "but I can try if you show me."

Snape nodded. "Focus yourself. Transforming large objects requires more power, but I think that won't be a problem for you. Remember Professor McGonagall's advice, and visualize precisely the shape you want to give this armchair."

Frowning, Harry concentrated, wand pointed at the armchair. A bed—a large bed with a mattress, red sheets, and a pillow. The green armchair at the other end of the room twisted for a moment, before stretching out into a rather promising shape. The boy took a step forward to admire his work: it really resembled a bed…from far away. The springs were twisted, it lacked a foot and the entire thing was rather unbalanced…but the basic idea was intact.

Without a word, Snape came to stand behind him, and took his right hand in his own. "Focus yourself. You'll get there." Guiding him with a precise movement of his wrist, he made the boy's wand dance in the air. This time, the bed seemed completely presentable, Harry decided with satisfaction.

"That's not bad, is it?" he asked.

"It's rather good. You can try to improve it later, if you need to." With a few flicks of his wand, Snape transfigured a stool into a chest of drawers, and put away a few items lying on the desk.

"Make yourself at home. You shouldn't be here long, but fix the room as you like."

"Do you think I could go up to the tower soon?" Harry asked.

"I think it'll be good for you to see your friends again, but I'd prefer to make sure it's without risk…for everyone," he replied.

"And…we'll still be going back to the Manor?" the boy asked.

"That will be necessary in order to train you discreetly. You're of course free to return there at any time; the wards are adjusted to allow you to enter. But it's unnecessary to bring all your things for now. I suspect we won't be settled permanently at Hogwarts for a good week."

Harry nodded, unsure about what he should think. He was practically certain that Snape wanted him at the Manor, but…

"I'm sorry about the Slytherins, Professor. Maybe it's not a good thing for us to be seen together so often, whatever form I'm in."

"Should I also apologize for the Gryffindors' reactions?" Snape sneered. "Do as you like, Harry. I'm perfectly aware that at your age the opinion of your friends is important. As for myself, it hardly bothers me. The Slytherins will have to get used to it, whether they like it or not."

"I don't think the Gryffindors will be angry for very long. They know you saved me, and…"

"And they're Gryffindors. But Harry, don't forget that Peter Pettigrew was also one; loyalty is one thing, but don't bank everything on the nobleness of your friends."

"At least the Slytherins didn't hide their feelings," Harry murmured, chilled.

"One must take things as they come. The immediate problem is Scrimgeour. In the event that he forces you to transform without us being able to prevent it, stay at my side, express your regrets concerning the incident with Fudge, and insist on the fact that I'm the only one able to control you. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but we're going to have to put all of our eggs in one basket this time. Is that understood?"

The boy nodded and without waiting any longer, transformed into the cat. In truth, he felt almost impatient for the interview to begin…playing Snape's cat? How he'd missed that! Oh, he was going to be the most perfect domesticated tomcat that the Minister had ever seen.

That was the moment Albus Dumbledore chose to appear in the sitting room fireplace. "Severus, Shadow, the Minister is waiting for you."

They exchanged a quick look, then the cat jumped to the Potions master's shoulder in one agile leap. Together, they stepped purposefully into the green flames, Shadow firmly gripping the professor's shoulder.

The new Minister was definitely much more imposing than the last one, Harry decided, as he saw him for the first time, standing in front of the Headmaster's desk, staring at the new arrivals with piercing eyes. And he had a noble, even catlike manner, reinforced by his bushy mane that immediately impressed the cat.

Enough, anyway, so that it wasn't an act when Shadow hunched slightly down on Snape's shoulder, staring at the Minister with green eyes.

"Professor Snape, Mr. Potter," the Minister greeted them with a dignified nod.

"Minister," Snape replied courteously. Shadow stayed still, his whiskers quivering at attention.

"So this is Harry Potter, I presume," Scrimgeour began. "Would it be possible to speak to him in his human form?"

"Alas, I fear not," Dumbledore answered in a firm but amiable voice. "Mr. Potter is encountering some difficulties with his transformations, and they cannot be undertaken without certain precautions."

"That's regrettable," the Minister murmured. "The magical signature, however, is identical to that registered on Mr. Potter's Magical Profile. I deduce, then, that I indeed have before me the one guilty of the aggression perpetrated against Cornelius Fudge this morning, during the course of an official mission."

"Innocent until proven guilty, Rufus," Dumbledore said softly. "In addition, Mr. Potter only reacted in a manner—as brief as it was intense—to a clear-cut provocation on the part of your official. It seems that merits consideration."

"Which will be the case," Scrimgeour replied. "Harry Potter will be treated like any other minor guilty of magical aggression against another wizard."

"Accidental magic," Snape interrupted. "Mr. Potter had no desire to hurt Cornelius Fudge; it was a simple matter of accidental magic incited by the very inconsiderate words on the part of your predecessor."

"You're claiming it was a matter of accidental magic, at age sixteen? Potter long ago passed the age of being able to use that excuse!"

"We're talking about the same boy who was kidnapped from the Ministry, Minister," Dumbledore said, his voice laced with threat. "Kidnapped by a Death Eater, and tortured over the course of several days by Voldemort. Don't you think that certain events might produce…unusual responses?"

"It's a matter of wandless magic, Albus, and in a location where all offensive magic should've been impossible!" roared the Minister. "The boy is much too unstable and uncontrollable; his new power makes him dangerous for all who come into contact with him, especially the students of this school! He must be put under the protection and trusteeship of the Ministry as quickly as possible."

The cat shivered and burrowed in a bit more against the Potions master. A slender hand came up to his neck, while the two wizards continued to argue over his fate.

"There is one person in particular who is completely able to control Mr. Potter, and who proved it just today. Harry needs a supporter and permanent guide, and he's found him," Dumbledore went on.

All eyes turned to Snape and his cat.

"An ex-Death Eater?" Scrimgeour asked sarcastically. "Which explains a great deal. You're losing your mind, Dumbledore, and I'm far from being the only one to think it!"

"An ex-Death Eater who's brought us precious information at the peril of his own life for years, and who saved Harry Potter once again, just a few days ago," the Headmaster pointed out.

"Be that as it may, he's clearly not a positive influence for the boy! You were supposed to be watching over him, Albus, and instead of that, you entrusted him to a person known to hate your protégé!"

"I did what was best for him," Dumbledore cut in. "What's more, I really didn't have a choice; _Harry_ made his choice."

Scrimgeour shook his mane, staring at the Headmaster disgustedly. "You're stark raving mad. Stark raving mad. But this absurd situation is coming to an end immediately; I have a warrant here, rescinding your guardianship of Potter, taking effect straight away. Cat or human, he must accompany me to the Ministry, far from your influence, old man. Don't force me to bring the Aurors into this. It seems to me this young man has had enough drama in his life recently."

Shadow felt his heart begin to race, as Dumbledore held a parchment out to the Minister with a smile. "I'm afraid the situation isn't that simple, Rufus."

The Minister rapidly ran his eyes over the document; his face immediately became scarlet. "This is a joke! This document is worthless!" he roared.

"Of course," Dumbledore said peaceably, "but as Harry's not recognized as an Animagus, then Shadow must be considered a magical creature…that belongs to Professor Snape."

Shadow blinked his eyes mischievously. This meeting was really becoming amusing. Deciding to add a touch of his own to the little scene, he let himself slide to Snape's chest; the professor had no other choice but to take him in his arms, where the cat curled up.

"Harry is very attentive to Professor Snape's advice, and is entirely devoted to him…a relationship that is reciprocal," he explained calmly to the Minister. "It's the best solution for Harry, trust me. Isolating him will only make him more fragile. He needs support and a mentor who can be consistent with him in his excesses, and that person happens to be Severus Snape. Accept it, Rufus."

The man scrutinized the professor calculatingly, as Snape held the cat in a position that was both defiant and defensive. As for the cat, he seemed perfectly at ease in the arms of the dreaded professor and Death Eater…ex-Death Eater.

He wasn't going to win this round, not now, the Minister understood. The risks would be too great if he were to force things, and Snape was now becoming very popular in the Wizarding world, given his exploits at Godric's Hollow. The man had always wanted recognition, and Snape certainly wasn't going to let him take Potter without having something to say, even less likely with the Headmaster's support.

"Very well." He could see the relief wash over the room's three other occupants.

"Mr. Potter will stay here for now. I expect him to remain under control, visible to the Ministry and the rest of the world…so far as his safety will allow. The question of his guardianship will have to be sorted out, however; this situation cannot go on. I don't want to hear any more talk of aggression, and I want regular reports. As well as Mr. Potter's registration as an Animagus."

"That last point still has not been resolved, Rufus. Harry could very well lose this ability again, from one moment to the next."

"Nonsense," the Minister grumbled. "You have until the end of the year at the latest to register yourself, Mr. Potter. Failing that, you'll be prosecuted by the Wizengamot."

The cat's eyes glittered, and Snape's thumb lightly caressed his side to reassure him.

Scrimegeour thought to himself that there was something interesting in that gesture, as he stepped through the fireplace to return to the Ministry. And certainly something to be gleaned from all this new information.

In the office, the three wizards let out light sighs of relief.

"Well, well, that didn't go all that badly," Dumbledore commented.

"It was almost too easy," Snape said thoughtfully. But he still didn't release his hold on the cat, even a bit.

"We shouldn't expect a lasting victory to come from this evening, but at the very least, the Minister seems ready to give us some time."

"On the condition that Harry stay visible, in other words at Hogwarts," Snape answered.

"That was foreseeable," Dumbledore agreed. "Scrimgeour is most likely counting on an incident, whether it's provoked by Harry or someone else. Any good reason to pull him permanently from my guardianship, for his own good or that of the other students, with the support of their parents."

The cat stiffened in the professor's arms.

"Well then, all there is for us to do is to make sure that doesn't happen," Severus stated simply.

The cat jumped to the ground and transformed immediately. "Does this mean we're staying at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"I suppose we hardly have a choice," Snape replied. "Of course, if something threatens you, you will return to the Manor at once. Senseless to tempt the devil—even Scrimgeour can understand that."

"Back to the Manor for weekends? I know that's not really done, but…" He shrugged. At his side, Snape's expression softened.

"I suppose there's no rule against that. Even so, since when do the rules apply to the Boy Who Lived?" the professor grumbled as he rolled his eyes. But his tone was light, and Harry sensed that Snape was as satisfied as he was at this prospect.

"Your place in the Gryffindor dormitory is of course always open, Harry," Dumbledore said. "But I think it best for now if you settle into Professor Snape's rooms, at the very least until we're sure you're not at risk. That wolf attack on the first day of term has still not been completely resolved."

"That's fine with me. Sorry to put you out, Professor," Harry offered with a hesitant look at Severus.

"Hmmm, don't forget that you belong to me," the Potions master said with a slight smile. "I'm supposed to provide for your needs—here as well as at the Manor."

"I'm not forgetting," Harry answered, displaying his bracelet, the medallion clearly visible.

"In that case, it's time to go and collect your cat-bed and bowls," Severus jested lightly. "Leave what you don't think you'll need right away at the Manor, and bring the rest with you. No need to weigh yourself down."

Throwing a handful of powder into the fireplace, he announced his destination. With a motion of his hand for Harry to stay behind, he thrust his head and chest into the flames.

All seemed calm at the Manor, the wards not indicating any intrusion. It was highly unlikely, really, but two precautions were better than one, especially when it came to Harry Potter. Or Shadow Snape.

Merlin, would the boy ever cease to astonish him? He'd been afraid of Harry's reaction to Dumbledore's stupid gift, but the boy had been delighted. How could he be so enthusiastic at the idea of wearing that despised name, even as a game? He himself could hardly bear its implications. The only tangible memory that remained of his Muggle of a father, that hateful man who'd made his childhood intolerable. A name which he himself had actively dishonored

But clearly, the boy had seen something else in it. His desire to belong to someone, to have a family, someone he would count on, to the point of forgetting how much he himself had hated that name the last few years. Did Harry even realize this? Probably not. But a return to his friends and the routine at Hogwarts wouldn't fail to shake him from his stupor. And Remus was there now.

Snape shook his head. All the implications of these past weeks came together in a mishmash of confused emotions in his mind. Emotions that Severus had conscientiously guarded himself against, ever since that night when Lily had died to protect her son.

He would've liked to ponder it, to take time to carefully untangle the threads of the story, to pull something clear and analytical from it in the end, but he was incapable of it.

He wasn't capable of much anymore, he thought bitterly. He was tempted to venture one more step and go into the laboratory to take one of the potions sitting on the table. But he'd taken some several hours ago, and it was too soon for them to restore a semblance of efficiency to his powers

Closing his eyes for a second to make certain his mask of impassivity was well in place, he pulled himself back into the office.

"All is well. You can go," he informed the boy. When he made as if to follow him, Dumbledore stopped him with a gesture of his hand.

"Severus, might I speak to you for a moment in private?"

The Potions master shot him a weary, annoyed look. Harry was waiting, obviously hesitant about what he should do.

"Take your time, and meet me in my quarters," Severus instructed him. "You only have to announce, 'Professor Snape's rooms, Hogwarts.' The password is Thestral."

Nodding, Harry stepped forward into the flames, then out into the laboratory.

Thestral. Had Snape chosen that word by chance, or was he thinking of their escapade at the Ministry of Magic several months before?

Shaking his head, he looked around him. He'd not been alone in the Manor since…since the time when he'd been Shadow, and _only_ Shadow, he thought. The time when all Snape had seen in him was a lost cat, when Harry'd tried to comfort the Potions master when he'd come back, broken, from his missions.

Things had changed since then, and he didn't see the Manor in the same way. Yet, he still had this feeling of coming home.

A bit ill-at-ease despite that fact, he left the laboratory and headed toward his room. What exactly was he supposed to take with him? Severus had told him not to weigh himself down…

He opened his trunk and began to take out what seemed indispensable for the few days between then and the weekend. Trousers, shirts, two robes. This one was too small, he thought, as he put it back into the trunk. Maybe Hermione could make it slightly larger…

The vision of Madam Malkin's shop suddenly struck him. Oh. Severus had bought him enough clothes so he'd never have to bother with an enlarging spell! He couldn't help but blush as he recalled the scene. Severus had been really generous…and pleasant, despite his nervousness.

Harry hesitated for an instant before putting the old robe back into the trunk. Despite the number of robes he now had, he couldn't bring himself to throw out a garment. The Dursleys would've certainly killed him if he'd even dared to think of such a thing.

He felt a vague wave of nausea wash over him. The Dursleys would've no longer had a say in it, even had they still been alive. And he really would've liked for them to be alive at that moment. To go find them and show them the medallion on which his other name was engraved, to show them the piles of new clothing that Severus had bought for him. For him, only for him, in his own size, and according to his own tastes.

He chased the thought away as he set aside a few things he'd need right away. His toiletries…his broom…the photo album that Hagrid had given him.

His eyes drifted to the photo that still stood on the nightstand. He couldn't help but smile; he wouldn't risk leaving that behind.

Rummaging in his trunk, he pulled out an old canvas bag, into which he shoved all of his belongings. Not much, really, but what pleased him the most in this entire matter was finally being able to leave the rest of his things in his room.

His. Room.

With a smile, he closed the door behind him. Maybe he could bring a few Quidditch posters the next time he came back. Ron always had quite a few that he spent his time sticking up in his room, only to replace them rather quickly, for lack of space on the walls.

Harry paused for an instant in front of the steps. Severus himself had told him to take his time. Was there enough time to go up to the next storey and take a quick look at that infamous room?

No, he caught himself—that would be disloyal. Even if Severus had said he could make himself at home. Groaning, he went down to the laboratory, vaguely frustrated.

That weekend, he promised himself, he'd ask Snape…

With a last look at the dungeon, he threw a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace and stepped through to the sitting room in Snape's rooms.

He stopped abruptly at the scene in front of him.

It would appear that Snape had arrived ahead of him…and he wasn't alone. Seeming more than a bit guilty, Dumbledore turned his eyes toward Harry, his wand pointed at Snape's body, which was floating in the air. He had just enough time to set him carefully on the settee, before a furious black cat jumped between him and the professor, its eyes burning with rage.

The room seemed to suddenly vibrate, and the old wizard felt himself pushed backward by an invisible force.

"Harry, let me explain…"

The cat quickly transformed into the teenager, his wand aimed at the Headmaster's chest. "How dare you?! Get away from him!" he hissed. "I trusted you!"

"Harry," the Headmaster sighed, "I've the impression we've already lived through this scenario, and I've no intention of trying to disarm you this time, believe me."

The force trying to push him backward was much more powerful, now that Harry'd transformed back, and Dumbledore caught himself struggling to keep his shields in place.

His eyes still glittering in anger, Harry cautiously stepped back to place a hand on the side of the professor's neck, without looking away from his target for an instant.

The muffled yet distinct sensation of a heartbeat reassured him slightly.

"What have you done to him?" he growled.

Once again, the Headmaster wore that guilty expression as he looked at the unconscious professor on the settee. The intensity of the magic surrounding him had lessened, but he could feel an electric hostility dancing around him. Harry didn't seem to realize, but Dumbledore could clearly see now what had so frightened the ex-Minister.

"I put him to sleep, Harry. I didn't have a choice. Severus would've never agreed to truly rest, and his health is in great danger of suffering from that. Poppy Pomfrey alerted me this morning that she'd run a quick diagnostic charm, unbeknownst to Professor Snape, and discovered that he'd in no way begun to recover his strength. In reality, Severus would've probably collapsed within a short time."

As the boy was still staring at him, his eyes full of distrust and accusation, the Headmaster decided to take a seat, and motioned to Harry to do likewise.

"Lower your wand, Harry. We have to talk."

Harry reluctantly obeyed before sitting beside the still unconscious Severus.

"You took him by surprise, didn't you?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore sighed. "I would've preferred to explain this all to you in…less dramatic circumstances, but you arrived sooner than I'd anticipated, Harry. I regret having to spring this trap on Severus, and I'm very sure he will himself undertake to make me regret it when he awakens. But the fact is that Professor Snape is now no longer able to judge what is good for himself."

"You're exaggerating," Harry replied, beginning to have doubts. Severus hadn't looked very well recently, had he? And he certainly didn't seem to be regaining his strength. He'd spent his time swallowing potion after potion. "He's a Potions master," he went on. "He knows what he's doing."

"In truth, Severus has been relying a bit too much on his precious potions lately. Fatigue, and the excess of magical substances, have certainly contributed to give him a false impression concerning his state of health," Dumbledore explained calmly.

"But…he's going to get better, isn't he?" Harry asked, all mistrust forgotten. Dumbledore felt the offensive magic filling the room fade little by little.

"Of course, my boy," the Headmaster reassured him quickly. "Professor Snape really just needs sleep, a long rest without the pressure of having to protect you."

"He's not really slept since I've been there, I suppose," the boy murmured, recalling all the nights when Snape had come to comfort him after a nightmare.

"Severus was already in need of rest well before you arrived, but the events of this summer have without a doubt depleted his reserves. Especially that episode of sacrificial magic."

Harry felt his heart clench. They were down to it now; it really _was_ his fault.

"Severus was much too proud to admit it, but he was no longer capable of watching over you adequately," Dumbledore continued.

The boy jumped to his feet. "I forbid you to say that!" he roared, his hand clenching his wand. Once again, the walls shook under the effect of uncontrolled magic.

"Harry, Harry, I expressed myself poorly," the Headmaster was quick to add. "I wanted simply to say that Professor Snape no longer has the physical and magical capacity to defend you in the event of an attack, not without placing himself in grave danger."

"He did it just this morning," the boy countered challengingly.

"At the price of the last of his reserves, I'm afraid," Dumbledore added. "Harry, the spell he cast during Voldemort's attack goes well beyond a simple defensive spell. It's a matter of an ancient, complex magic that is not without consequences." He settled a bit deeper into his armchair, his eyes intense.

Harry crinkled his eyes, preparing for the worst.

"You're aware that in managing to cast that spell to protect you, Professor Snape accepted the risk of dying," Dumbledore began. Harry slowly nodded. "That didn't happen, thank Merlin. But the entirety of his strength, both magical and physical, were drained by that spell and placed at the service of sacrificial magic. Severus will recover his abilities with a great deal of rest. But his magic has been permanently affected, and that is something that will not change. Even when Professor Snape will have regained all of his powers, he will nevertheless have limited energy at his disposal."

Harry gasped in surprise. "You mean…like a battery?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Wizards have a natural and effortless access to their magic. It is not usually limited for anyone endowed with magical ability. Unfortunately, that will not be the case with Severus Snape."

Harry was flabbergasted, his eyes darting automatically to the sleeping professor's face. "That's not possible…is there anything that can be done?" he asked frantically.

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore said as he shook his head sadly. "But I wouldn't worry too much, Harry. Professor Snape is a very powerful wizard. Once he's recovered his strength, it would take extraordinary events to empty him of his magic. That shouldn't in any way affect his everyday life, or how he personally conducts his classes, such as they are. You must know that Severus mustn't for any reason exceed his limits, and that is the reason why I was forced to do what I've done today."

It was Harry's turn to shoot the Headmaster an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry I was so hostile, Professor. I really thought…I'm a bit on edge recently, I think."

"Completely understandable, my boy. I only hope you'll understand my motivations. I doubt such will be the case with Severus, though," Dumbledore said with regret.

"I know you were right to do it," Harry said reassuringly. "But you laid a trap for him, and that's really not very loyal. I'm sure there were other ways."

"Would you have been cross with Severus if he'd done the same for you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"No," the boy said, after he'd thought for a second, "but it's not the same."

"And why not?"

"Because he's…he's my…it's different," he protested.

Dumbledore kept silent, but Harry could see the sparkle in the blue eyes as they stared at the unconscious Potions master, and suddenly, Harry understood. Without a word, the old man got up and lifted his wand again.

"Severus will be better off resting in his bed, especially for a long sleep," he said, his voice strangely gentle.

"How long do you think he'll sleep?" Harry asked anxiously.

"As long as possible. Several days, ideally, for his strength to replenish itself."

_Several days. Several days without Severus._ Harry felt his anxiety building, and a strange feeling of emptiness. Dumbledore must've sensed it, for he continued to speak reassuringly.

"Severus took your protection very much to heart, Harry, but rest assured, I won't let anything happen to you in his absence. You'll stay here, as planned, and someone will accompany you when you want to go out. If you like, you could take your meals in the Great Hall."

Harry nodded. "Snape knows about his powers?" he asked in a low voice, as if he were afraid that the professor might hear him.

"Of course. He didn't want you to know about it, so as to not—and I quote—'add to your bloody propensity for assuming guilt.' I also suspect he was afraid that you'd see him differently, if you came to understand that his powers had become unstable. Rather curious as it might seem, it would appear that Severus is at last concerned about someone else's opinion," Dumbledore said with a mischievous smile.

"That's ridiculous," Harry protested. "He's the bravest man I've ever known! And certainly not because his powers…" He stopped for an instant, a memory suddenly flashing through his mind. That day in the laboratory, when Voldemort had almost stolen Harry's own powers, Snape had reassured him by telling him it wouldn't change a thing. And now in the end, it was Harry who was in this delicate situation. Life truly _was_ ironic.

But one thing was sure: he certainly wasn't going to think less of Snape over a matter of powers.

"And anyway," Harry said out loud, "even with limited powers, he'll still be more powerful than most wizards, that's for sure."

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Without a doubt, my boy," he said, with a hint of pride in his voice. Then, raising his wand toward the professor, he incanted, "_Leviocorpus."_

Harry shuddered. "I don't think Severus would approve."

"Well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, will it?" Dumbledore answered. Harry hurried to open the door to the room, and a moment later, Snape was lying on his bed. His face seemed anything but relaxed, Harry noticed. How was it that even in sleep, the man could seem so forbidding? It was physically impossible.

After assuring himself of the professor's comfort, the Headmaster cast an, "_Accio_ Severus' pyjamas!" without success.

He looked at the chest of drawers disconcertedly. "I suppose Severus took most of his clothing to the Manor. Well, that's not a problem."

With a quick incantation, he changed the professor's robes into large, black pyjamas, as Harry looked on dubiously.

"Hmm, Professor, I don't think Snape will really appreciate the thought. As far as I know, he sleeps fully clothed, with his wand in his hand."

He thought he saw a brief glimmer of pain pass through Dumbledore's eyes. The old wizard quickly said, "Ah, well, Severus doesn't have to worry any longer about being summoned or attacked while he sleeps."

Having made sure that the Potions master was settled in, Dumbledore headed for the door. A backward glance made him startle: Harry had disappeared! But a little black figure quickly changed his mind.

With a leap, Shadow had jumped to the bed, before curling up against the professor. He looked up at the Headmaster and blinked.

_I'm staying._

Dumbledore nodded. "If you don't appear in the Great Hall to eat, I'll ask Dobby to bring your meal here. Rest well."

The cat blinked again and rolled itself into a ball.

As he closed the door on his two children, Dumbledore thought he heard a slight purring sound, and his heart constricted.

So much wasted time…

* * *

_again, thanks to my wonderful translator Raewhit who did a wonderful job! Hope you liked this chapter!_


	32. Chapter 32 Alone in the Dark

**Chapter Thirty-two: Alone in the Dark**

Inhale. Exahale. Up. Down.

Pressed against the professor's chest, Shadow let himself be lulled by the slow rhythm of the man's breathing, At first, he'd just been happy to be settled there against him, rolled up in a ball, but he'd felt Snape's uneven breathing stop several times before starting up again.

What had Dumbledore been thinking? With a bit of bad luck, this spell could've been totally incompatible with his Man In Black; had he even bothered to find our beforehand? Shadow didn't like the way the man's eyelids were nervously fluttering, and even less, these times when his breathing stopped.

Swearing at the Headmaster, he'd settled on the wizard's chest, staring at his face with his green eyes. Was Snape dreaming? What else could he be thinking of anyway? Lily? Voldemort?

Mealtime in the Great Hall had come and gone, but Shadow hadn't wanted to leave his post. Not to mention that he hadn't the slightest desire to see Dumbledore or Remus now. The two of them were probably very happy with the situation—Severus out of commission for a few days.

A little 'pop' on the other side of the door attracted his attention. Quickly flicking his ear, he heard a high-pitched voice call him.

"Harry Potter, sir?"

Dobby. He was most likely bringing him his meal. With a little leap, Shadow jumped from the professor's bed and went to join the elf in the dining room. He transformed right away when he saw the familiar figure.

"Dobbly, you brought me something to eat?"

The elf nodded eagerly. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to prepare a tray for you, Harry Potter! He said that Harry Potter must ask if he needs anything else!"

Harry shook his head. "No, Dobby, this will be fine, thanks." Then after he'd thought for an moment, he added, "But I'd like you to do something for me."

Dobby's eyes widened, full of hope. "Anything you want, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby would do anything for you!"

"Yes, yes," Harry cut in with a smile. "Dobby, I'd like you to go take a look at Professor Snape in his room. I'd like you to tell me if his magic…if it's damaged, or something like that."

The house-elf looked at him skeptically. "Harry Potter, Professor's Snape's magic is damaged—Dobby has already seen it. But Dobby will go and see…"

The little creature slipped softly into the room, then came out a few seconds later, seeming troubled.

"Well?" Harry asked earnestly.

"The magic of Professor Snape is coming back slowly…but it will always be damaged," the elf said.

Disappointed, Harry sighed. "Yeah, that's what Dumbledore told me. It's not serious, Dobby. Thanks."

"But there is something else," the elf went on. "The magic of Professor Snape has changed and is still changing."

"Changed?" Harry asked, intrigued. "How?"

"It is less black, Harry Potter," Dobby murmured. "Less dark, less like the bad wizard…"

"Like Voldemort? That's what you mean, that he's pulling away from him?"

"The Mark has changed, Harry Potter," he replied simply.

Harry felt his heart pound harder. "And me, Dobby—how does my magic feel?"

The elf fidgeted nervously. "Harry Potter's magic has changed as well. But it is just stained…it hasn't faded. It will become white again, like Harry Potter."

The boy fell heavily into an armchair. "Yes, Dobby," he said at last. "It will change, you needn't worry."

"Oh, Dobby is not worried!" the elf replied enthusiastically. "Dobby knows!"

Harry smiled in spite of himself. If there were ever only one person left who believed in him, it would be Dobby.

"Say," he said, suddenly inspired, "do you know where Ron and Hermione are?"

"Dobby does not know, but he can find out," the elf told him.

"Please," Harry agreed.

Dobby quickly disappeared, then reappeared a few seconds later. "Harry Potter's friends are in Gryffindor tower," he said proudly.

"Great. Could you take me there? But…" he added after thinking for a moment. "Dobby, I'd like you to do something for me, if you're not too busy."

"Harry Potter only has to ask!" the elf squeaked ecstatically.

"I'd like you to come regularly and check that Professor Snape's all right. I don't trust this spell," he explained.

Dobby nodded energetically. "Dobby will come to see the professor every quarter-hour, and alert Harry Potter if he is not all right!"

"Perfect," Harry smiled. "I hope that won't pose a problem," he said as he transformed into the black cat, right before the elf's dumbfounded eyes.

"Ohhhhh, Harry Potter is truly very powerful! Very powerful!" he squeaked, then after reaching out to lay a hand on the cat's back, he Disapparated them both from the dungeons with a _crack._

As Dobby had said, Ron and Hermione were in the common room; she was studying in an armchair while he was playing chess against himself. Both of them automatically turned their heads at the sound of Apparition, and jumped to their feet when they saw the new arrivals.

"Harry!"

The cat blinked at Dobby, who disappeared immediately, intimidated by the witch and wizard hurrying toward him. Shadow trotted to meet his friends, and jumped agilely on the back of a chair to bring himself up to their level.

"Harry, are you all right? We've heard horrible stories, and it seems the Minister himself came here this morning—is it true?"

Shadow swished his tail in frustration. News definitely traveled fast…especially the bad sort. But Snape had asked him to be careful, and he had to admit that the Gryffindor common room didn't seem like the ideal place to talk about this sort of thing. Nor was it a good place for him to transform, that was for certain.

So he contented himself with meowing as he hung his head. His two friends seemed to understand, because their faces quickly darkened with worry.

"Were you hurt?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his body to prove he was in perfect health, making Hermione smile.

"No, you even have shiny fur!"

"And a wet nose," Ron added with a mocking smile.

Hermione couldn't keep from laughing softly, especially after the cat rolled his eyes in a manner so typically…Snape-ish.

"Harry, is Snape all right?" the girl asked kindly. "From what people are saying, you were attacked by an enormous wolf in the middle of Diagon Alley!"

The cat's hair stood on end, and he circled in place twice in an attempt to show how upset he was.

"Hmmm, I think something really did happen," Ron said perceptively. "You really don't want to transform, mate? It'd be so much easier to talk that way—we're safe here."

But Hermione silenced him with a gesture of her hand. "No, he's right, you never know. We'll have to find a place. The Room of Requirement."

Shadow meowed and bounded enthusiastically at the girl. She smiled and reached out to pet the cat's head as Ron glared disapprovingly. Her eyes connected with Shadow's, and for an instant, Hermione saw an insistent gleam in the green eyes that made her instinctively look down to the collar the cat wore on his outstretched neck. A plate, she noticed. It hadn't been there before. Her eyes quickly spied the two words: Shadow Snape. A flicker of comprehension crossed her face as she exchanged another look with the cat. She could've sworn he smiled!

Careful not to look in Ron's direction, she nodded imperceptibly, seeming thoughtful.

"We only have a half-hour before classes start," Ron pointed out. "We have Potions just after…I don't suppose you're coming?" he asked Harry.

The cat shook his head in a sign of denial. When Snape would be back, maybe… For now, he had no desire to see what would happen if he lost control of his powers again in the midst of the other students. And given the Slytherins, it surely wouldn't take long for that to happen….

All three of them headed for the door, the cat trotting between the two teenagers, when the portrait swung open to let in some students who were laughing uproariously.

They took a step to the side to let them pass, and Harry felt his heart squeeze suddenly.

Ginny and Dean, holding hands.

Before he was able to hear what the two lovebirds were saying, Shadow jumped through the opening and took off down the corridor, Ron and Hermione at his heels, shouting for him to slow down. At the end of the hallway, he stopped, his heart racing. What had come over him? Ginny could do what she very well liked—it was none of his affair. Even with Dean. Especially with Dean. So why had he had such a furious urge to throw himself at the boy and scratch at his face with his claws?

His two friends finally caught up with him, out of breath.

"Harry, not so fast! Don't get so far away from us, it's dangerous for you to be alone!" Hermione protested frantically.

"It was only Ginny and Dean, criminy, no need to get so upset!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione hid a small, knowing smile, and Shadow held back a groan. They could just think what they wanted. He had the right to be paranoid if he liked, bloody hell, he'd been attacked by a wolf just that very morning!

"You want to climb up on my shoulder?" Ron asked, clearly attracted to the idea.

But the cat took off, his steps more placid and his tail straight up. He only rode on his Man In Black's shoulder; it was an act he didn't intend to perform with anyone else. And besides, there was a certain classiness to being perched on the Potions master's shoulder that wouldn't be the same with Ron…even given the best intentions in the world.

When they reached the Room of Requirement, Ron and Hermione only had a few minutes before the start of class.

"But Potions is still not as horrible as if it were Snape," Ron admitted when they finally had peace and quiet. "Slughorn's classes are really fascinating; I didn't think Potions could be so interesting. And he's not bad for a Slytherin. He really likes Hermione," he added with an affectionate smile for the girl.

Hermione blushed, and hurried to add, "Yes, Professor Slughorn doesn't seem to have the same prejudices as the other Slytherins about Muggle-borns. He was Head of Slytherin before Snape, though. To be honest," she said apologetically, "no one here is in a hurry to see Professor Snape come back. The Slytherins don't talk _much_, but they still talk, and what they're saying…if I were in Snape's place, I'd be wary. I don't know what they're planning for when he comes back, but it's not anything good."

"Ah well, they'd best be careful about themselves," Harry said with a frown. "Snape isn't the sort to let things go. He doesn't need to play favorites with the Death Eaters' children now. He's already warned them they could be expelled if they cause problems."

"Most of the Death Eaters' children have left," Hermione pointed out. "But that won't stop students from thinking he's a traitor, and what's even worse, a traitor to his House."

"I'm already aware of that, and so is he, thanks," Harry said with a wave of his hand.

"By the way, where has he gone?" Ron asked.

Harry hesitated for an instant…but this was Ron and Hermione. Of course he could trust them.

"In his rooms, unconscious. Don't repeat that to anyone, all right? It's really not the time for something to happen to him."

"Unconscious?" Hermione gasped. "Does Madam Pomfrey know? Yes, of course she does…what happened to him? It was the attack this morning, wasn't it? Still…"

"Hermione, stop," Harry said. "Yes, it was the attack this morning, indirectly. It's complicated, and I can't really explain, but he'll most likely be out of commission for a few days. The other news…is that I'm finally back at Hogwarts. For good, I think."

"That's great!" Ron exclaimed. "You can do some exploring at night in your cat form!"

"Not so fast!" Hermione interrupted. "Harry is still in danger at Hogwarts. No going out and about on your own, you hear me?"

"I've already had that lecture, thanks," Harry grimaced. "I'm not stupid. I'll stay in my other form the rest of the time, and I won't be going to classes right away. Oh, and I'm sleeping in Snape's rooms until I'm told otherwise."

"That won't work," Ron grumbled. "You have to get the Quidditch team together! We're already behind the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. You absolutely have to get busy! Oh, I don't know if you're aware… McGonagall told us you're the Captain this year. Congrats, mate!"

"I know," Harry said with a smile. "I'm going to take care of things as soon as I can, really. I suppose McGonagall can hang around during practices, so it won't be too risky. Severus was supposed to come, but he won't be able to right away."

"Snape at our practices? Have you lost your mind? He'll squeal to his team!" Ron said indignantly.

"No, he's not like that. But that's not a problem for now. Maybe you should go—you're going to be late."

"Yes," Hermione admitted regretfully. "Meet us in the common room after class, Harry. I'll give you my notes. Do you want us to take you somewhere?"

Harry hesitated for a moment. "Yeah, the infirmary. I'll go see Remus after all. I'd like to know what he has planned for Defense class this year."

"Are you planning on continuing the Defense club?" Ron asked with interest.

"I don't know yet. I haven't really had time to think about it. Everything happened so quickly this summer," Harry confessed.

Hermione nodded, and made an imperceptible nod with her chin towards the boy's bracelet. "Yes, very quickly. You should take time and think about all that, Harry. No need to rush."

Harry couldn't help but frown. It was just a medallion, for goodness sake. Preferring not to answer, he took his cat form again and headed for the door.

The corridors were bustling with students at this hour, and Shadow felt more nervous moving through them than he had when he'd been with Snape. His friends stuck close by him, but he sensed they were as tense as he was as they headed quickly for the infirmary.

A few people whispered and pointed at him, while others—Slytherins—frowned as he passed by. But no one dared to raise a wand, and they finally reached the infirmary door without incident.

"You'll be all right, Harry?" Hermione asked, relieved.

He meowed softly and headed for the open door.

"See you later, mate," Ron said as they left. "Don't go anywhere alone. I don't know about the Slytherins, but I saw a few girls looking at you, and they had that look in their eyes…if you don't want cuddled to death, follow my advice! A pink ribbon is sure to be in the works."

The cat was shocked by a little cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, then the two teenagers left him with a final wave goodbye. Feeling more relaxed, the cat entered the infirmary without a sound. Preferring not to take any risks, he slipped underneath the beds to furtively make his way to Remus. But he stopped short when he got to the bed: it was empty, the curtains drawn wide open and the bed made. The professor had left.

Swishing his tail, he was getting ready to turn back and call Dobby, when he heard a familiar voice a bit further away. Curious, he stepped forward until he reached another bed, around which the curtains had been drawn.

"Take off your shirt, Mr. Malfoy. I can't take care of you if I can't see your wounds!"

"Then just give me a healing potion," the boy growled.

His ears at attention, Shadow slid surreptitiously toward the bed, slipping his head underneath the curtain.

Draco! Draco seemed even paler than usual, his fingers clenched on his shirt, and his jaw tensed, slightly bent over as he stared at the mediwitch.

"You don't give me orders, young man, and you're going to do what I tell you! Immediately," Pomfrey directed.

Draco hesitated for a moment, but the pain seemed to get the better of him. He opened his Slytherin-colored shirt, revealing a large burn on his shoulder, the angry blisters seeming to literally boil.

Pomfrey frowned and began to cast healing spells. "You were attacked, Mr. Malfoy. Who was it?"

"Mind your own affairs," the boy hissed, ill-tempered.

"Oh, but it is my affair, young man! The person who did this to you is dangerous, and I fully intend they be severely punished! This curse is definitely a dark spell, and without question, offensive. You'll not have me believe that it was a matter of a mistake or a prank."

"What good will that do? He won't go after anyone else, if that's what's bothering you. Stay out of it, and give me something to sleep tonight. That's all I'm asking," Malfoy groaned.

"You'll take that up with the Headmaster. I'll do nothing more as long as you refuse to tell him," the witch said stubbornly. "Other wounds?"

Draco let loose a furious groan, and re-buttoned his shirt and robe before striding from the infirmary.

Shadow waited until the mediwitch had left before he took his turn to head for the door: this little visit had definitely been useful. Who could've attacked Malfoy, and why? And especially, why was he refusing to say who? That really didn't seem like him. After what he'd done to Buckbeak in third-year, and his perpetual whinging around Snape… A vague feeling of pride and triumph filled the cat. Now it would be _his _turn to go see Snape when he had problems.

Deep in his thoughts, he reached the door and hesitated for an instant. What to do now that Remus wasn't there? Maybe he should go up and see Dumbledore and talk to him about what'd happened that morning? He didn't want the man to think he was totally out of control, but there was something about the idea of being in that office alone with the Headmaster that made his fur stand strangely on end.

He wanted to go and talk to the Headmaster. He wanted to be able to do it, even without Snape. Face his recent nightmares all alone and know he could do it. He wanted Severus to be proud of him, and he wanted to be proud of himself as well.

He stepped out into the corridor with determination, before he had a chance to change his mind. He shouldn't be walking about alone. On the other hand, Dumbledore's office was only one storey up and a few corridors away, which were empty at this time of day. No need to disturb Dobby for such a little thing, he decided. Without waiting any longer, he took off at a run in the direction of the staircase.

Sticking close to the walls, he brushed against the suits of armor, making them rattle as he passed by, clearly surprising them. An axe blade narrowly missed crashing into him, and he took off at full speed, vaguely uncomfortable at being so close to the ground in the castle that suddenly seemed so huge…

Behind him, a rhythmic noise accelerated along with him. A suit of armor, he tried to convince himself, it was just a suit of armor. Suits of armor—did they breathe? Was it really breathing he heard there, just a few feet away? His heart racing, he tried to speed up, as that feeling of a presence behind him becoming increasingly oppressive.

In a flash of fur, he shot past the gargoyle, which opened the office door without question. His tail had scarcely made it through when it closed quickly behind him. It seemed to Shadow that the _something_ behind him had just let out a growl of frustration.

Panting, he sat with his tongue hanging out as he caught his breath. Were cats really supposed to let their tongues hang out? Oh, it didn't matter, he'd do what he wanted—no one was asking him to be a perfect feline! Trying to calm the beating of his heart, he was about to go into the office when the sounds of voices made him freeze in place.

Someone was coming through the other door that led into the office. Dumbledore, he realized, and someone else.

"Perhaps you should talk to him about it, Professor," the Headmaster was calmly saying.

"No, no, he wouldn't understand."

Shadow felt his heart speed up again. Remus! So this was where he was. Without thinking, he hid behind a tapestry.

"Harry is a particularly intelligent boy," Dumbledore argued.

The cat froze again. They were talking about him. He'd come at a good time. Interesting, as people always seemed to want to talk about important things concerning him when he wasn't there.

But when Remus answered, he thought his heart would stop.

"I can't, Albus! He's my son! I can't tell him that, not now when he…when Severus… He wouldn't understand why I left him the hands of those monsters all this time."

"He's bound to end up learning about it. And it will be worse if it's not from you."

"If only I could've…if I'd known…" The words seemed to stay stuck in his throat.

Shadow felt his head spin. Remus. His son. He was…Remus' son. He'd abandoned him at the Dursleys, when he was his son? No, it was impossible, it couldn't be true! Not Remus!

"It's too late to change the past," Dumbledore replied firmly, his voice seeming far away to Shadow. "The only thing you can do now is try to repair the damage that was done, and try to become closer to him."

"That won't be easy, after what Severus has done."

"I never said it would be easy, my boy. But it's necessary. If no one stops him, he'll be irrevocably drawn to Voldemort and his powers. He's already taken more than one step in that sense; you're well aware of what happened this morning."

Shadow had to lie down this time, his paws giving way beneath him. So that was what Dumbledore had meant by 'out of control'? His new powers were making him like Voldemort? Dobby and Severus had been wrong…what he'd done to Fudge that morning had been the proof of it. He felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. Just when things seemed about to work out…and here everything had become complicated again.

"I know," Remus said wearily. "Once again, I owe a debt to Severus. He saved my son, but I can't help but think he's not a good choice for Harry."

The boy couldn't hold back the wave of burning anger that engulfed him. How dared he, after the conversation they'd had? And Remus himself realized that Severus had saved him!

"Don't bother yourself about Severus, Remus," Dumbledore replied. "He and Harry share many things, and despite their former animosity, they're now linked by a great natural affection."

"I don't like that," the werewolf grumbled.

"Would you happen to be jealous?" Dumbledore asked. "You shouldn't take it this way. Severus is doing his best for Harry, and I must say he's succeeded magnificently. I've recently discovered a whole new side to our Potions professor, and I have to say that I'm extraordinarily touched by it. You should follow his example, Remus. Watch him with Harry. You could draw some precious lessons from it."

Shadow was overcome by a surge of affection for the old wizard. An affection he'd perhaps forgotten for a bit too long. No, Dumbledore wasn't a bad man, and he wasn't stupid either. He understood how much Harry needed Severus, and what he provided for him.

Remus groaned. "It's so ironic. Severus and Harry…"

"Ironic, perhaps, but hardly surprising. I only hope the latest reversals of the situation won't affect their new understanding."

"I doubt it. Harry seems especially protective of this relationship," Remus grumbled.

"Come, my boy, a cuppa will do you a great deal of good," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

"Add a healthy dose of calming potion," the werewolf growled. "I'll need it if I have to see Harry."

This was too much for Shadow. Remus certainly wasn't the only one who needed a potion. How _could_ he? With as little noise as when he'd entered, he slipped toward the door, which opened automatically.

It closed behind him, an instant too soon for him to hear Dumbledore reassure Remus as he tapped him on the shoulder. "Harry will understand, my boy. He knows all too well that one doesn't always have a choice, even when it comes to one's own children. You didn't set out to abandon Loki to the wolves, no more than Lily and James chose to leave Harry with the Dursleys. You have a second chance now, and I'm persuaded he'll be able to understand perfectly how much that means to you."

Remus looked down at his cup of tea. In the end, Severus' presence in Harry's life might perhaps make things easier for him.

***

The cat sat in front of the door in shock.

Remus. He was Remus' son. His father was alive. He'd been alive all this time. He hardly looked like Lupin, though. Harry Lupin. So that was his real name?

He shook his head. No, he didn't want… He couldn't… Guilt swept over him. Remus hadn't wanted it this way, that's what he'd seemed to mean to say. But why wasn't he happier? He had a father, clearly alive, and it was Remus! If he'd had to choose, this was surely the person he'd have put at the top of the list.

Or almost, he corrected himself. Almost. Shadow shook his head; the emotions roiling around inside of him were becoming too complex for his cat persona. He had to get out of here, and quickly, go home and take his human form! Without thinking further, he rushed toward the door that opened before him, and slipped along the corridors, without a second thought for the creature he'd imagined he'd heard earlier.

He didn't hear it this time, too confused to think of anything but the scene he'd just happened upon. Lost in his thoughts, he ran without thinking, and continued on, totally stunned when he realized he'd just gone through the door to the girls' toilets…on the second floor. This little detail was impossible to miss, given that Moaning Myrtle was standing just a few steps away, leaning in over a student who seemed to be having difficulty staying on their feet.

If he thought he couldn't be any more surprised today, he was wrong. In the instant of indecisiveness before Moaning Myrtle began to wail, Harry had time to realize two things.

First, the student leaning against the sink was Draco Malfoy.

Second, he was crying.

Shadow was too dumbstruck to summon the energy to react; he remained frozen at the sight of it, in the dead center of the room. A second later, the scene was broken by Myrtle's shrill screams as she noticed Harry.

"Dirty beast! Get out of here! Go on, you mangy cat! Horrible little rat!

The ghost rushed toward him, hissing an icy breath, and Shadow had to take a leap to avoid her, but never took his eyes off of Draco.

The boy had turned around, paler than ever, and stared at him with a murderous look as he clenched his jaw. "Potter…"

It was almost amusing, the way Draco managed to brush his tears away with an aristocratic wipe of his sleeve. Harry would've seemed like a perfect peasant, had he tried the same thing.

But Draco didn't seem to see any humor in the situation. He took a step towards the cat, and Shadow felt the fur on his back stand on end.

"Having fun playing alley cat in the castle, Potter?" he hissed from between his teeth. "And without a bodyguard, what's more."

His tone was clearly menacing, but Harry couldn't help but notice that the boy hadn't drawn his wand.

"So, Potter, where did you leave your precious master? He gave you permission to stroll around off your leash? Not very smart," he drawled, still hoarse from crying. "But our dear Head of House told us to watch over you—I'd be furious with myself if something happened to you. Come over here, pretty kitty."

With these words, he bent down toward the cat, hand outstretched, a nasty smile on his face. Shadow was tempted to pull away, but he didn't make a move. Out in the corridor, something moving had attracted his attention. Someone was watching them! A quick glance was enough to identify the spectator: Luna Lovegood. But instead of intervening, the girl contented herself with an encouraging smile for Shadow, before disappearing again.

What was she thinking? Harry wondered, flabbergasted. He was cornered by Draco, bloody hell! Draco was still coming toward him. Shadow gathered his wits about him.

No question of giving in; Malfoy didn't even have his wand in hand, and Shadow wasn't exactly a defenseless little cat. The moment the hand was about to touch his head, the cat let out a savage growl, and Draco hesitated for an instant. Just an instant, before moving forward again. That was all the cat needed: without waiting any longer, Shadow lashed out and scratched at the hand with a paw full of claws.

Draco cried out in pain and surprise, his left hand flying forward suddenly to give the cat the same treatment. A bit too reflexively, Harry thought. Malfoy probably was in the habit of using a heavy hand to force obedience out of animals and other inferior creatures.

But Shadow's reflexes were just as good, and the sharp little teeth joined the two paws, claws still out, cutting quickly into the boy's left arm. His back feet worked at the shirt, pushing up the sleeve, which the cat saw made the Slytherin let go.

The Mark. Draco had it, there on his forearm, the edges well-defined and regular. The boy pulled back, quickly pulling his sleeve down over his bloody arm.

His gray eyes seemed to want to strike the cat down on the spot.

"Satisfied, Potter? Did you see what you wanted to see?" he sneered. "Even as a cat, you're incapable of hiding what you think. You always imagine you're better than everyone else…but let me tell you something: you aren't. Your new power is nothing, nothing compared to what the Dark Lord has in store for you. If I were you, Potter, I'd get far away from here. Far enough so you'll never meet up with me again, if possible. To the bottom of the last shabby little doghouse. That would be so much better than what's waiting for you when he takes you again." Unhurriedly, Draco brandished his wand.

The cat's eyes gleamed. Had the boy decided to ignore Snape's threats? Once again, Malfoy seemed to read his thoughts.

'Oh, your dear master can't do anything to defend you now. Actually, Potter, he'll never be able to do anything for you again—haven't you understood that yet?' With a deliberate gesture, he bared his arm, a grimace of a smile on his face. "Whether he wants it or not, he's a Death Eater. He belongs to the Dark Lord, and that'll never change. Never, you hear me? No one ever leaves the Dark Lord! He'll come for him, Potter, and he'll make him regret it. Snape will beg for him to forgive him and take him back. He'll crawl on his knees just for the honor of dying in his Master's good graces!"

Shadow didn't feel the fur as it stood up on his back again, but he was entirely aware of throwing himself at Malfoy, turning his nose up at the wand leveled at him. Draco opened his mouth, probably to cast a spell, but he didn't have a chance. A voice sounded out from the doorway, making the two of them jump.

"What's going on here?"

They turned to face Professor Slughorn, who seemed particularly irritated and confused.

Draco immediately put away his wand, trying to appear as innocent as possible.

"Nothing at all, Professor. Professor Snape's cat and myself were simply having a bit of fun. These little critters are so playful, you know…" he said as he ran a hand through his hair, shooting a mocking look at the cat.

The professor's nostrils flared, and his pudgy fingers tapped nervously against his crossed arms. "Mr. Malfoy, I seem to recall you asked to be excused to go to the infirmary. If you're feeling better, return to your common room. I don't want to see you dawdling in the corridors."

With a quick nod, Draco headed for the door, but not before turning one last time to face the cat. "Run away as far as you can, Potter," he hissed in a low voice. "Loki is on hot on your heels, and if he finds you, there won't be a tree high enough for you to hide in." Doing an about-face, he left with his head held high.

With a sigh, Slughorn turned to Shadow. "Mr. Potter, Professor Snape must've expressly instructed you to not wander the castle alone. Consider yourself lucky that charming young lady came to find me, after having been warned by our favorite ghost," he said with a wave toward Moaning Myrtle, who was fidgeting in a corner of the room. Were ghosts able to blush? Shadow could've sworn she was.

"Now, follow me. Since you seem determined not to stay in your rooms, you may as well do something useful."

Harry followed the professor at a trot, vaguely reassured, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from rambling. Had Malfoy really wanted to attack him? How could he have the Mark, so young? Why hadn't he left for Durmstrang like the others? How could Dumbledore… Dumbledore. Remus. He felt a shiver of cold run through him. This little adventure had almost made him forget the scene he'd stumbled upon only a few minutes ago. This day was completely mind-boggling. What would he find out next? If only he could talk to someone…

Hermione and Ron, he thought. But what could they do? No, he had to talk to Dumbledore…but Dumbledore had hidden what he'd known about Remus from Harry. And Dumbledore never sorted out problems—he created them.

He wanted to talk to Severus. He needed to talk to him; Snape would know how to answer to help him see things so that they were both simple and complicated at the same time, but still not so jumbled up. He would know what to say to him. Indeed, he'd probably not say anything specific, but he would be there, and Harry knew it.

Most of all, he wanted Severus' advice.

A little pang in his chest brought him back to reality. The professor was asleep, and probably for a good while. He was going to have to deal with this on his own. What would Severus have said to him if he'd been there?

To stay calm and control himself, certainly. To empty his mind and not do anything stupid. For that, it was already too late… Not to give in to anger. But he wasn't angry, just too shaken up to know what to think.

Well, as for not thinking…emptying his mind seemed to be the best thing for now, pushing all he'd learnt into a corner of his mind, and putting off thinking about it again until he was calmer. After all, none of this information was urgent…but to forget that Remus was his father?'

Yes, he realized. For now, that's exactly what he wanted to forget. For a few hours, for the time it took him to find a place where he could shout and throw things at the walls.

Trying his best to remember the techniques Severus had taught him, he followed Professor Slughorn into a roomful of students.

Oh, the Potions room. He hadn't realized they'd come all this way. All eyes turned to him, and he quickly found the faces of his two friends in their usual places.

He shot a questioning look at Slughorn, who answered him with a nod and a happy smile.

"Well, well," he began, the cat sitting a few steps away with a challenging look in his eyes. "It appears we have a surprise guest for our lesson today. As Professor Snape's cat has encountered a few little troubles while roaming the corridors, he'll stay with us until the end of this session, as well as Miss Lovegood. No need to instruct you that it's strictly forbidden to pull his tail or any other stupid prank. Have I made myself understood?"

A murmuring ran through the room, and the professor seemed to take that as agreement.

Tail held high, the cat trotted to his usual place as the pupils looked on, wide-eyed, then jumped to the desk between his two friends. Hermione let out a muffled, little laugh, and Ron sported a large smile on face as soon as he recovered from his surprise.

"Harry, you weren't supposed to be out walking alone!" the girl whispered earnestly. "Snape will be furious when he finds out!"

"Oh, you're going to catch it for that," Ron continued. "I don't know what got into you, but it's not even been two hours since we left you. I'll have to check with the twins, but that must be some sort of record…"

The cat flicked his tail, offended. He had serious reasons to be worried…reasons about which he didn't want to think just now. There were enough things here to distract him anyway. Slughorn's class had begun again, and the students were once again bent in over their cauldrons as they concentrated. Intrigued, Shadow took a step across the table to glance into Hermione's cauldron. The bluish potion was simmering gently, and Harry hadn't a doubt that it'd be perfect.

To his left, he heard Ron murmur, "I don't know what Snape would think of a cat on a Potions table, but I'd be surprised if it were all right with him."

Shadow would've liked to laugh; if Ron only knew how many times he'd jumped to the laboratory table to watch the Potions master. Enough times, in any case, to know that the boy's technique of cutting his roots wasn't a good one at all. Slughorn had said to thinly slice them, not dice them!

With a nudge of a well-placed paw, he made the piece of root that Ron was trying to cut fly off the table.

"Hey! That won't do, what's got into you?"

"Ah, ah," Slughorn said cheerfully from his perch on his platform. He was without a doubt less intimidating than Snape, but no less vigilant because of it. "It seems we have here a cat proficient in Potions! Not surprising, of course."

With a lively step, he came to Ron's desk. "These roots are much too thick, young man. Your feline friend has perhaps saved your potion." Casting a critical eye at the cauldron, he added, "Perhaps not. Whatever the case, you'd do best to follow his instructions. This cat is well-schooled!"

Patting his chest, as if reassured, he headed for Hermione's cauldron. "Very good, Miss Granger; add a bit more powdered horn. There, that's perfect!"

Satisfied, the professor left to inspect the other tables.

"Little traitor," Ron hissed at the cat. "Since when do you know so much about potions? Don't expect me to give you fishcakes as a reward."

The cat snorted critically, then carefully leant in over the boy's cauldron. Ouch, it was far from being as good as Hermione's. A noxious green smoke wafted up from the cauldron to irritate the cat's nose, causing him to sneeze violently into the potion.

For an instant, he thought the sneeze had made him dizzy. But when he opened his eyes again, it was to see Ron's flabbergasted face through a cloud of dense smoke. Uh-oh…something had gone wrong… Someone cast a spell, and the fog quickly disappeared, bringing into view an almsot apocalyptic sight. The cauldron had literally exploded, pulverizing the table and everything on top along with it.

Shadow looked desperately for Ron, blown into the aisle by the explosion. Their eyes connected, and Shadow knew the worst was yet to come.

Green. Ron's hair was green. Slytherin green, actually. Oh, Merlin, Ron was never going to forgive him for this!

"Very interesting," Professor Slughorn said delightedly, as he drew near to the desk, or rather what was left of it. "Here's what happens when one mixes cat fur with extract of Dutch werewolf saliva; you'll note, by the way, that if the potion had been correctly prepared, our two artists would've actually had blue hair."

Two? Shadow jumped, startled. How so, two?

"As it happens," the paunchy little man went on, "we now have two new candidates to wear Slytherin colors! I'm sure Professor Snape won't have any objections!"

With these words, the room burst into laughter, Gryffindors included.

Slowly, praying to all the deities willing to listen that Slughorn hadn't actually said that, Shadow looked down at his paws.

Green. The most beautiful Slytherin green—the professor was right. A strangled gasp made him turn… Behind him, Hermione, who'd finally recovered from the shock, had just broke out into uncontrollable laughter.

Irritated, the cat shot the girl his most withering look. Clearly, he still lacked practice. When he looked back to Ron again, Hermione was wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks, unable to get ahold of herself, while the entire class seemed to be having a hard time becoming serious again.

Shadow thought with a certain bitterness that this was probably one of the first times in Hogwarts history when the students of all four houses were able to agree on laughing at the same thing. All but one, he corrected himself, leaping out of the way to avoid a furious Ron.

"Little…just you wait, you little rat!"

Without waiting for the rest of it, Shadow slipped to the back of the room. What was with them all calling him a rat today?"

"Oh, he's so cute!" chuckled a student as he passed by, making his fur stand on end. He had to restrain his temper, he thought, as he heard the laughing increase. Puffing up his back with green fur probably wasn't the best idea.

Behind him, Ron didn't seem to have given up on the idea of a swift and decisive vengeance, and the cat had to jump underneath a desk, praying that it didn't belong to a Slytherin.

A second afterward, he found himself being lifted from the floor and wrapped in protective arms, apparently female ones. He lifted his eyes and met the happy, ethereal ones of Luna Lovegood.

"Oh, it's incredible!" she said ecstatically. "You look just like a Swamp Bazul! I'd like so much for Daddy to be here to see this! You have to let me take a picture; you could make the front page of his paper, you know!"

Perfect, just what he needed. Shadow struggled valiantly until he caught sight of Ron's triumphant face, his wand pointed straight at him. It was Luna who saved the day.

"Ron, you wouldn't dare. Really, you know green cats bring good luck!"

"Green cats?" the young man exclaimed. "Because you know so much about them, green cats?"

"Well, it's well-known that the blue ones of Tanzania molt in spring and become green, but a bit paler than Harry, of course."

Silence fell over the room. Of course, everyone had known since his arrival at Hogwarts that Snape's cat was none other than the Boy Who Lived…but the taboo of saying it outright that'd seemed to hang over the subject had not yet been breached, even less so in the middle of a class.

"Thanks, Luna," Ron hissed as he lowered his wand. "I'm sure everyone's positively enthralled by that precious bit of information."

"Oh, you know, you should try playing the lottery or something like that, to try out your luck. Since you've taken the potion with green cat fur in it. Unless, of course, the fur didn't become green until afterward. It's hard to know, but it's certainly worth a try! I would, if I were you!" the girl advised him amiably.

Ron shook his head incredulously.

"Well, with that valuable instruction," Slughorn announced, "today's class is over. Mr. Weasley and…the cat, I regret to inform you that the coloring of your hair and fur are irreversible. At least until they grow out, of course. But I think with the ingenuity of your brothers, Mr. Weasley, it won't be hard for you to find a way to hide your new colors. On that note, I wish you all a good day."

Slughorn left the room with quick little steps, leaving the two wizards dumbfounded.

Ron once again turned to Shadow. "You little…how…bloody hell, I'm sure you did this on purpose!"

Shadow meowed in protest, but his reply was in vain.

"You're happy, huh, a right Slytherin cat! You can be proud of yourself. You're not the one who has to go back to the Gryffindor common room with _this!_" he said with a vehement gesture toward his hair.

Contrite, the cat did his best to widen his eyes, in the most perfect imitation he could muster of a cat full of remorse. Lost cause.

"Stop that! Who do you take me for—Hermione?" Ron said indignantly. "You don't expect me to believe those puppy dog eyes work with Snape, do you?"

Hmmm. Actually, they _were_ rather effective, especially when it came to food. But that probably wasn't the sort of argument to calm Ron down just now.

Rubbing a paw against his nose, he faked a little sneeze, his eyes full of apology.

"Not on purpose, not on purpose," Ron grumbled. "You're lucky Snape wasn't the professor. That I would've never forgiven!"

The cat looked up, smiling. He was coming out of this rather well.

"You can't go up by yourself," Ron said. "I'll go with you to the common room. Hermione has to give you your class work. Even though I doubt you need it, Mr. Potions master apprentice."

Relieved, the cat headed for the door, followed by his friend.

"Oh, Merlin," Ron sighed, "I suppose there's no way of cutting it off. I'll really have to send Fred and George an owl tonight, so they'll send me some dye. Doesn't matter what color—anything but this Slytherin green."

Shadow meowed as he swatted Ron's robes with his paw, making the boy nod.

"Yes, Gryffindor red, why not? That could be funny. I'll still be curious to see Snape's face when he sees you like that, mate," he said as he laughed softly.

But the cat lost his cheerfulness. Oh, he was sure Severus would find the situation very amusing…when he woke up. If he'd been there today, he would've certainly not let him get so close to a cauldron, nor so close to other students. A bit paranoid, no doubt, but at least he'd still be black. He was seized by a flash of realization at the thought.

Yes, Snape would've certainly wanted to do those things to protect him. But when had Harry ever been coddled in the past? Snape certainly wasn't going to scold him. Even though he'd been in his cat form, this day had been so typical of his everyday life…accidents, incidents, traps.

If Snape had been there, even despite his reservations, they would've probably had a discussion on how to spy on people's conversations; he would've most certainly taken the time to discuss with Harry what he'd overheard. He would've done it so the news would've seemed less serious, less shocking, and he would've been at his side to support him.

Ron and Hermione were there, of course, but the difference was exactly like walking the corridors with them versus Snape. With Severus, he felt protected in a different way…as if the Protego he'd cast in the dungeon had never stopped. As if a magic bubble still surrounded him and protected him from the outside world. He and Ron and Hermione made a good team, but Severus was _there_ for him, as an adult. The idea was really disconcerting, but comforting as well.

What would Snape think of the fact that Harry's father was alive, and that it was Remus? He probably wouldn't like the news. Was he going to regret his offer to make them a family? Would he regret getting close to him? And Remus didn't seem to like the idea of Snape at his side. Since Remus was there at Hogwarts, he was probably going to sort out the problem with Harry's guardianship. Maybe he'd even end up forbidding him to see Severus. But Harry wouldn't accept that.

No, certainly not. He didn't know what he thought of Remus after his revelations, but one thing was for sure: he knew how he felt about Snape, and there was no way he was giving that up, even for his true father. Severus was the one who'd watched over him, since the beginning, who'd come to save him in the cemetery, who'd case the Protego! And that wasn't all. He could communicate differently with Snape than with other adults. Maybe that was because of his cat form, but he picked up on the little signals from Snape's body, the tension in his shoulders, his imperceptible smiles. He was _His Snape_.

Around his neck, the collar jingled. Yes, he was Shadow Snape. And Severus was his owner, no matter what Remus said about it. Harry wouldn't allow it. He needed his Man In Black, who needed him as well.

Determined, he took off at a trot, Ron at his side, and finally reached the Gryffindor common room.

If he'd been more attentive, he probably would've been alerted by the unusual silence of the room when he first opened the door. If he'd not been so deep in thought, he probably would've been forewarned, and avoided what happened when he entered the room.

They'd barely taken a step into the room when dozens of _clicks _could be heard, quickly followed by a wave of flashes.

This time, he was a done in, Shadow thought dramatically. He'd always dreaded this moment, knowing all too well that it'd inevitably come.

The day when he was going to have to write and ask Voldemort to come and finish the job, or give him a mask and a new identity.

Preferably very quickly, before Snape woke up.

* * *

_First of all, if right now you are thinking: 'yeeeck, Remus as Hary's father ? what's the heck?' : go back to the conversation Harry overheard, and especially the part he missed. Important one! *hint*_

_A lot of thanks to Raewhit for the translation, and to you all reviewers :-) Sorry if I've been a bit behind in answering you, life got a bit crazy lately, I think I've catch up now, though! _

_In next chapter, more problems... a cat's life can be very complicated indeed!_


	33. Chapter 33 You Just Can't Get Enough

**Chapter Thirty-three: You Just Can't Get Enough**

It was late that evening when Dobby accompanied Harry back to Snape's rooms.

After the mad rush in the common room, the three friends had once again sought refuge in the Room of Requirement, away from prying eyes.

Harry had transformed immediately, making Ron jump.

"I can't believe it," he'd cried. "Your hair's normal!"

Harry reached up with a hand to pull on a lock of his hair. "Huh. Seems the transformation puts it back to its normal color."

"Fortunately they took pictures," Hermione laughed. "I'd have given anything to be in Potions when Luna picked you up! A Swamp Bazul, that's really priceless."

"Yeah, it was funny until she said my name," Harry sighed.

Ron's irritation was suddenly gone. "Honestly, what was she thinking? She knows very well how delicate the situation is; I can't believe she did that."

"Oh, it's not important anymore, really. Everyone's known since the first day. I don't think Luna would've taken the risk otherwise," Hermione argued, before continuing in a withering voice," And you, Harry, what were doing in Moaning Myrtle's toilets? I seem to recall we talked about this—you agreed not to wander about on your own."

"I wasn't really alone, actually,' the boy disagreed. "Rather the opposite, in fact. Malfoy was there ahead of me."

"Draco?" Ron exclaimed. "I thought he was in the infirmary?"

"He was, and I'd seen him there just before then—he was hurt. Rather badly, apparently, but he didn't want to tell who'd attacked him. Rather strange, isn't it?"

"For Malfoy, certainly," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"And that's not all. He didn't really try to attack me in Myrtle's toilets, but he did try to trap me and I scratched him. And I got the proof I wanted. Draco Malfoy _is_ a Death Eater."

The two teenagers gasped, their mouths hanging open.

"Merlin, but he's much too young!" Ron said at last. "Did you really see it…his arm?"

"Yes, I definitely saw his Mark," Harry confirmed. "No doubt about it. But it doesn't seem to be doing him much good. When I got there, he was crying, and Moaning Myrtle was consoling him. Can you imagine that?"

"Wow," Ron said. "That must've been a really terrifying sight."

"You said it."

"But that still doesn't explain how you ended up there in the first place," Hermione continued after thinking for a moment. "Don't tell me you rushed right in to humiliate him when you heard him crying."

"No, I was sort of just stupidly standing there when I saw that. I was looking for…it doesn't matter."

Hermione scrutinized him with that piercing and knowing look she often had, and Harry caught himself nervously stroking the bracelet with his fingertips. He didn't want to talk about it now. Not about Remus and what Harry'd learnt. First he wanted to think it over, and talk to someone else about it…as soon as woke up. The revelation about Malfoy _was_ something he could talk to them about, but the other matter… That was different. He needed Severus to help him see it more clearly. For once in his life an adult seemed willing to be generous with his advice solely for his benefit, and Harry intended to take full advantage of it.

"You know very well you can call on Dobby anytime, Harry," Ron said disapprovingly. "He's only too happy to help Harry Potter, sir!"

"I know," Harry said with a smile. "I didn't think much. The fact of being a cat…that makes things different."

"Especially a green cat, I presume," Ron sneered.

"Anyway, we're really going to have to watch Malfoy closely," Harry continued, in a hurry to change the subject. He didn't even want to imagine where those photos would end up. "What I don't understand is why he didn't try to outright attack me. Maybe he really took Severus' threats seriously. That didn't stop him from warning me that Loki's on my heels. I still think we could call that a threat, coming from Draco."

"Loki?" Hermione asked. "What's that all about?"

"Who or what, I don't exactly know. That's the wolf that attacked me this morning."

"Oh, Harry! You're right; it's certainly not a normal wolf; how did it manage to get there, right in the middle of Diagon Alley?"

"By Apparating," Harry replied simply. "And he's easily bigger than a normal wolf. A sort of Animagus, in my opinion."

"What did it look like?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Like a very big white wolf. Or gray, I don't know exactly. Light-colored, and obviously more cunning than a normal wolf."

"That was definitely him at Hogwarts, then, the day of the attack," Hermione confirmed. "Several people saw him. But he didn't come up out of the dungeons, and he let the werewolves and other wolves alone. Maybe he was looking for you, Harry."

"That's what it seemed like, yeah," the boy groaned. "But I don't want to think about that now. After all that happened this summer, I'd like to start getting busy on the Quidditch team, but that'll have to wait until tomorrow. I don't want to leave Snape alone for too long. I don't like what Dumbledore did to him—something tells me this is going to turn out badly."

"Oh, that—you can be sure when he wakes up it's really going to go badly, Headmaster or not. I don't think Dumbledore's going to get out of this one so easily!" Ron said with a laugh.

"That's for sure," Harry murmured. He was hardly pleased at the idea of Severus and Dumbledore angry with each other. "It's already been rather difficult between the two of them lately because of me. I suppose I'll just have to calm things down a bit."

"I think we've missed some of the interesting incidents," Ron said as he sat forward in his chair. "I know you must really want to think about something else, but…would it bother you to tell us about it?"

By his side, Hermione nodded, her eyes shining. A fire was burning in the grate, recreating the atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room, and suddenly Harry felt overcome by a strange feeling of comfort. Yes, he was at home, his other home. And Ron and Hermione were a part of his family as well, and they had a right to know. Everything, or almost all of it.

He settled himself deep in his armchair, and in his thoughts, went back in time. With a deep breath, he began.

"It started the day of my birthday."

***

Snape's room seemed strangely peaceful and quiet when he finally went down, accompanied by Dobby. It was well into the night, and Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for having left the professor for so long, and besides, how was the man supposed to be nourished? Dumbledore would've surely thought of that, obviously.

"Has everything been all right, Dobby?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Harry Potter. Professor Snape slept and Dobby gave him a nutritive potion. But…" the elf seemed to hesitate.

"Yes?" Harry prodded him.

"The magic of the professor is very agitated. His sleep as well, Harry Potter. It's not a good sleep. No, not a good sleep."

"Thanks, Dobby," the boy murmured. "I'm going to stay here tonight; you don't have to worry. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome, Harry Potter," the elf squeaked, before disappearing.

Transforming again, he headed stealthily towards the bedroom. The little bit of light filtering into the room was enough for his cat eyes to see that Severus indeed didn't seem any more rested or relaxed than when he'd left him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Worried, he jumped onto the bed and went to lie against him. His breathing was irregular…ragged at times. He'd stay with him tonight, he decided, but he should have a serious conversation with Dumbledore tomorrow.

Talking with Ron and Hermione about his summer with Severus had felt strange…like telling a story, a story that someone else had lived through…and survived. It'd changed him, perhaps. At least that was what Ron and Hermione had seemed to think, over the course of his account. Their eyes had been wide at times, they'd smiled at others, and of course had had plenty of questions on the tips of their tongues. Still, they let him finish his tale before asking, aware of his need to tell it to the finish.

Telling it that way, things had seemed both so simple and dramatic. He'd not told them everything, of course; certain things had to stay just between him and Severus. But that hadn't stopped his two friends from understanding his sudden attachment to the professor, especially after the incident with the Protego.

"He must really be fond of you, Harry," Hermione'd simply stated. "That sort of magic is very powerful and requires a true attachment…more than that, actually. He must really love you."

Harry jumped, startled. "You not going to start that again!" he said.

"No, no, not like that," the girl defended herself. "You say he's there when you have nightmares; he lets you have your own room in his house; he's taking care of buying your clothes and supplies. He must think of you a bit like a son, Harry. More than a bit, probably, to have been able to activate that spell."

Harry swallowed hard, but those words…coming from Hermione. That was exactly it, wasn't it? When they'd talked about a family…he'd wanted to believe it, all the while fearing that coming back to Hogwarts would change everything. Of course, they'd just arrived, but he'd hardly got back to his normal life, and he found he missed Severus. He didn't want it to be over already. Snape had been there in the hard times, but Harry also wanted to know him here, in his everyday life.

He'd not even managed to understand it himself. It was a bit like when he arrived at the Weasleys in the middle of the summer, when he felt like he could never eat enough to make up for all the meals he'd missed at the Dursleys'. It was the same thing with Severus. He felt as if he'd never have enough time or enough opportunities to recapture what he'd been missing before.

But in a way, his friends had seemed to understand, especially Hermione with her steadfast, perceptive eyes.

He would've just liked for Severus to understand it as well; he would've liked to have been able to say the most important things.

Being there, stretched out on the professor's chest, watching over his breathing, was a way of saying it, he thought. If only he could've woken up then and there… Instead, Snape's eyelids fluttered, the muscles of his arms jerking in short little spasms, off and on. Dumbledore…if something happened to his Man In Black, the Headmaster would pay dearly. Oh yes, very dearly.

Fatigue finally got the best of the feline, who fell off to sleep, rocked by Snape's irregular respiration.

And Shadow dreamed….

A storm was raging, swirling an icy wind around him, threatening to carry him away at any moment. He could hear shouting somewhere, carried by the squall, but he couldn't pinpoint the location. He tried to go on in spite of it, to find shelter. The wind was so strong that it felt like walking through thick treacle…and it was so dark!

As he went on, Harry felt a deep sense of anxiety wash over him. More than that, in fact—horror, fear and despair—something so profound and powerful that nothing could dissipate it. As if a Dementor had just brushed by him, he thought confusedly. But it was much more than that, in reality. Disgust, guilt, shame and hatred. He felt caught up in a whirlwind of horrors.

And nowhere was there any shelter. Incapable of staying still, the cat headed for what appeared to be the eye of the storm, his heart racing. There, perhaps, he'd find something, a way to flee. The voices and shouting seemed to get closer, making the dreamlike atmosphere even more oppressive.

But the treacle seemed to thicken then, keeping him from going any farther. It was almost like a wall. Harry looked up, trying to pick out something through the darkness and the mist. What he saw made him instantly freeze: two black feverish eyes, then the blurry contours of a face stood out through the fog. A face with familiar features…

Snape!

It was a meow that came from his throat, but that didn't keep Severus from turning his eyes toward him, as if in slow motion. The spark of fear in his eyes became panic and he began to speak, but Harry couldn't understand. He had to add gestures to his words for Harry to capture the sense of them.

_Go. Leave. Don't stay here. Go!_

Shadow hunched down, surprised. Severus didn't want him to stay? Why not? The Man In Black seemed frantic now, his eyes searching the shadows around him, while his features seemed to distort, as if his face was made of mist as well.

No, he couldn't leave, Harry decided. He couldn't leave Snape alone in this place. Unable to go forward any farther, he lay on the ground, his eyes fixed on Severus'. Then, trying to push the despair away as far as possible, along with the fear and the disgust threatening to subdue him, he mustered up the softest purr he could find from the back of his throat. Eyes half-closed, he could almost imagine that he was there, in the laboratory, lying against Snape's shoulder, trying to soothe him after one of his missions.

Little by little, the storm seemed to subside, surrounding them both without touching them, raging furiously without being able to reach them. Severus' silhouette seemed to solidify slightly, and relief filled his weary eyes. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity to Harry, before he felt as if he were being brusquely sucked from the dream. He struggled for a moment not to be torn from the calm little refuge, but it was hopeless. He had only enough time to see a flash of panic in the black eyes before he felt the fog of sleep leave him.

He shook his head, groggier than he usually was when he awakened. Bloody hell, he had to fall asleep again; he couldn't leave Severus… A movement to his right startled him, and he jumped to all four paws to find himself face-to-face with an anxious Dobby.

"Harry Potter, sir. Professor Dumbledore said to wake you to come and eat. Does Harry Potter want to eat in Professor Snape's rooms?"

Shadow held back a groan. He jumped to the floor and quickly made for the dining room, followed by the house-elf. Closing the door, he transformed.

"I'm going to eat here, Dobby. Is the Headmaster available?"

"He is in the infirmary right now, Harry Potter, but Dobby can go get him," the elf replied.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind. The dream had seemed so real. Was Severus really locked up there in that horrible place? Did he need him? Or was it just a truly bizarre dream?

"I'll go see him after I eat," he decided at last. "Thanks, Dobby."

The house-elf seemed to hesitate for an instant, then disappeared as he wiggled his ears. A tray full of food immediately appeared on the table, and Harry sat down in front of his meal.

Criminy, that dream had been…upsetting. Not like a normal dream, but rather like one of the visions that Voldemort liked to send him. Terribly realistic and frightening. Though, given his state of mind when he'd gone to bed the night before, it wasn't at all surprising.

Seized by a sudden intuition, he got up and headed for the bedroom again. Laid out on the bed, Snape hadn't moved an inch. And Dumbledore had been right—he seemed more rested. He needed this forced rest—that much was clear. Severus would never stop….

Harry went reluctantly to sit at the table again. He had to stop acting like the savior of humanity, once and for all. The best thing he could do for Snape was to let him sleep in peace, without having to take care of a troubled teenager. He quickly finished his meal, and cast a Tempus. He'd slept longer than he'd thought—it was well into the morning. Maybe he could meet up with the others in class, or go back to the Gryffindor common room to wait for them.

But before he was able to decide, he heard the outer door open, and then voices in the hallway. Without wasting time, he took his cat form and hid under the settee, where he was able to see the two wizards make their entrance.

Dumbledore and Remus! Relieved, he came out from his hiding place.

"Harry, we were hoping to find you here. Did you sleep well?"

Harry hesitated an instant. He hadn't the slightest desire to talk with the two men now, not after what he'd learnt yesterday, but he had to talk to them about Severus.

Wearing as neutral an expression as possible, he changed back again. "Rather well, yes," he replied right away. "But I think something's wrong with the professor. I had a bizarre dream. It was more than a dream, in fact. More like, I don't know…it seemed awfully real, and it was a nightmare." He paused for a moment. "I'm not sure Severus is really sleeping, or at least not resting like he should. Dobby thinks the same too," he added.

He saw Dumbledore frown imperceptibly. "And what was the dream like, Harry?" the professor asked softly.

"Well, there was a sort of storm, very strong, and nowhere to hide, but that wasn't the worst of it. I had that feeling like when the Dementors are there, you know?" He shuddered. "It was horrible. Agonizing. I don't know how, but I found myself with Severus in a place where the storm couldn't reach us, and we stayed there until I woke up. I know it sounds idiotic," he apologized. "But it was really different from my usual nightmares."

"I believe you, Harry," the Headmaster said gently. "I've come to make sure Professor Snape is doing well, and I won't forget what you've just told me. Is there anything thing else you noticed?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he seemed more rested this morning. But off and on, his heart beats very fast and his breathing is irregular." Noticing Remus' and Dumbledore's eyes on him, he began to blush. "I take my cat form at night to stay with him. My mind's more at ease that way."

Dumbledore had that infernal little gleam of mischief in his eyes, and Remus tilted his head to the side, clearly intrigued.

"Harry, that's a bit inappropriate," he began. But the boy didn't let him finish.

"Severus wouldn't mind. I've already done it at home," he said sharply. What right did Remus have to judge him? He felt a dull anger well up inside him. Lupin didn't like that he was close to Snape, obviously, but he had no right to come between them. No, he wouldn't allow it. Didn't matter what sort of father Remus was; Harry had to stay with Severus.

It would appear he'd hit the nail on the head, he thought, as he saw the brief spark of pain in Remus' eyes. It was Dumbledore who brought the embarrassing moment to an end.

"I assume Dobby brought you your meal?" he asked.

"Yes, thanks. I didn't realize it was so late; I slept longer than I'd planned."

"You needed sleep, my boy," the Headmaster said approvingly. "If you're finished, what would you say to going back to Gryffindor tower for now? Your friends should've finished their morning classes by now, and according to the rumors in the corridors, it seems the candidates for the Quidditch team are more numerous than ever this year," he said delightedly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll have to go. I promised Ron. I'm going to call Dobby."

"That won't be necessary. Professor Lupin has just offered to go with you," Dumbledore replied.

The boy turned to Remus, who appeared to make it a point of honor to seem as normal and casual as possible. Harry clenched his teeth. Another one of these manipulations that Dumbledore loved so much, but Harry had the advantage here and now was the time to make use of it. With a gesture of agreement, he changed into the black cat, a spark of challenge in his eyes.

"That's not really necessary, Harry. I could protect you quite well as yourself," Remus protested. But Shadow gave no sign of budging.

"Very well," the professor sighed. "Off we go, then."

As they headed for the door, Shadow turned one last time to see Dumbledore quietly letting himself into Snape's bedroom. He almost did an about-face, but reluctantly held himself back. The Man In Black probably wouldn't appreciate him being there while the Headmaster examined him.

Tail held high, he trotted after Remus into the corridor.

The hallways were empty, and they walked along in silence for a moment. Shadow could sense the nervousness of the man at his side as he groped for a way to start a conversation…or what would seem like one.

"Harry, you could really transform back, you know," the professor finally said. "I'm completely able to protect you. I'm the new Defense professor, you remember?" he said with a strained little laugh.

But Shadow didn't even bother to turn around.

Remus sighed. "I would've liked to talk to you about certain things. You've had a difficult summer; you surely have plenty of things to tell me," he insisted. But again, no response from the cat. They finally reached the Gryffindor common room, and Remus seemed more and more upset. He followed the cat into the room, clearly waiting for him to transform. But Shadow contented himself with settling into an armchair, a look of defiance in his eyes.

"Harry, I must talk with you," Lupin huffed out. The cat started to flick his tail in annoyance, his green eyes hardening.

Remus glanced quickly around the room to check that it was empty.

"You know, don't you?" he murmured.

Shadow nodded, unable to hold back a muffled growl. Remus took a half-step backward, then uncertainly took another step forward.

"Harry, we have to talk about it…alone."

The cat felt his fur stand on end. No, they weren't going to talk. Not before he could talk to Severus, and not before he'd thought this all over.

"You have to understand, I didn't have a choice," Lupin pleaded. "It all happened against my wishes; I never wanted to have…I knew the risks all too well!"

Despite everything, Harry felt something inside of him deflate. Remus had never wanted to have a child, that's what he'd said. Not only was his mother dead, not only had his father abandoned him…but even worse, he'd never wanted him. What had Remus been playing at, all this time? Unable to remain there any longer, the cat jumped to the floor and took off for the dormitories.

"Harry, wait!" Remus called after him. "I'm sorry, I really regret it, do you…"

But the rest was lost in jumble of noises, covered by the pounding of his heart. Was it never going end? Would there ever be a time when things stopped getting worse, being painful, being…unpredictable? He desperately wished he was back at Snape Manor, with Snape busy with his potions in a corner of the laboratory, with nothing else to think about.

Shadow jumped to the unoccupied bed that should've been his own and started to scratch at the coverlet with his claws. It was so much easier to express his frustration in this form. He would've liked to scratch Remus' face in its place, but that was impossible, of course. He was his father, after all.

Without even realizing, Harry took his human form again and stretched out on the bed. His father. He'd wanted one for so long, and now… An insistent feeling of betrayal clogged his throat. Remus' betrayal…but why, and against whom? James? Because if Remus was his father, then who was his mother? And why did Harry look so much like James? But that wasn't the only thing…It wasn't Lupin who'd saved him, who'd stayed with him when he had nightmares. He hadn't been the one who…it hadn't been him.

It just hadn't been Remus. The entire story sounded terribly phony.

At that moment the door was thrown open, and Ron and Hermione ran in, hardly giving the cat a chance to jump up.

"Mate, you're here! Have you thought about the team? It's all everyone's talking about; they say you're having try-outs this afternoon—is it true?"

"Really, Ron, there are days when I wonder where you were raised," Hermione grumbled, sounding very much like Mrs. Weasley. "Hullo, Harry, how are you?" she asked as she turned to Harry, noticeably worried.

"Good, thanks," the boy quickly answered. "So far as Quidditch, I haven't planned anything yet. But if everyone's ready, why not? I suppose we'll have to get started if we want to make up for lost time. I already have a few ideas, but we'll have to see, out on the pitch."

"Perfect," Ron announced, "and since I'm the Captain's best friend, I demand to go first."

"Oh," Harry said, surprised. "You want to play on the team? Actually, why not—what position will you try for?"

"Keeper," Ron said confidently. "I'm good as a Keeper."

"All right," Harry said, trying not to let the doubt show in his voice," and we'll have to replace Fred and George. And find new Chasers. I hope there won't be too many people who want to show up; that'll take forever!"

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," Hermione said with a smile. "All the girls seem determined to come and try out and it's all everyone's talking about. Get ready for a long session!"

Harry smiled. In other circumstances, he probably would've been annoyed, but it was the perfect time to have something different to think about.

"This afternoon will be perfect. After class, I guess. Hermione, could you make us some sort of sign, maybe a banner, to hang up in the common room?"

The girl sighed as she shook her head. "This is what you call applying your mind? Harry, you do remember you're a wizard, don't you?"

Lifting her wand, she murmured a spell that seemed indecipherable to the two boys. An instant later, the words, 'Try-outs for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team This Afternoon at the Pitch,' floated in the air, just above the fireplace.

"Hermione, you're great," Harry said as he smiled. "You're not planning on trying out, are you?" he added with a touch of worry.

"Oh, no," she murmured. "You'll already have enough catastrophes to deal with on the ground, believe me."

The comment made Harry groan. "I have to find someone to supervise the tryouts. Severus is out of the running. I hope McGonagall will be available."

"Speaking of him, how is Professor Snape?" Hermione asked.

Harry hesitated. "I don't know. He's still sleeping, but…I don't know if that's really a good thing. I had this bizarre dream last night. It was really scary. If whatever was in the dream is real, then Dumbledore made a serious mistake…but I think it's clear he did make one. Taking Snape by surprise? He's never going to forgive him."

"If a student had done it, they wouldn't even get expelled for that," Ron said gloomily. "No, they'd spend the rest of their lives hanging by their feet in the laboratory like a specimen. And neither Dumbledore nor the Ministry could do a thing about it. So, if it's meant to happen, I'd like it to be Dumbledore. If he's lucky and Snape's in a good mood, maybe he'll be content to just give him detention until the end of the year."

The two teenagers burst out laughing, and Harry felt the tension of the morning fade slightly away. This was what he'd been missing: stupid joking with his friends, laughing over serious stuff. That helped, really it did.

"Are you going to eat in the Great Hall?" he asked.

"That's what we'd planned, but we can always ask Dobby to bring us something," Ron suggested.

Harry thought for a moment. Yes, it'd be good to eat here, in peace, away from other eyes, but he couldn't spend his life hiding.

"No, I'll go with you. I have to see McGonagall and alert the others about the tryouts anyway."

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Harry," Hermione began. "You're not supposed to expose yourself as long as the castle's not safe, and I don't think that's the case yet."

"Well, Dumbledore will let me know that the minute I step into the Great Hall, won't he?" Harry replied offhandedly. "And I'll be with you. What could actually happen to me?"

Ron and Hermione smiled at him. The redhead clapped him on the back with a bit more enthusiasm than was necessary. Hermione got up, seeming determined.

"Harry, at least stay in your other form until we're in sight of the Great Hall, all right?" she pleaded. "No unnecessary risks."

"Agreed," Harry promised. "I don't know why I'm dying of hunger when I've just eaten breakfast, but…I'm dying of hunger and I've just eaten breakfast! Are we going?"

Without waiting for an answer, he took his cat form and headed agilely for the door. Realizing that no one was behind him, he turned to see Hermione and Ron staring at him, one hiding a bemused look behind her hand, the other smiling widely with satisfaction.

"Well, it seems there's justice in the world after all!" Ron said triumphantly, running a hand through is mop of green hair.

Shadow looked down incredulously at his paws. Black… What could Ron mean…? The cat twisted to see the rest of his body and almost fell over when he saw what'd caught his two friends' attention. His tail. His magnificent tail, which he could use to signal his mood with a whip-like motion, or curl delicately around his paws, giving him a mysterious mien. The precious appendage was now green. The only part of his body that'd remained so…

Bloody hell. As if he needed anymore proof that there were no limits on the ridiculous.

Gathering his dignity, he headed for the door again, tail held high and stiff…before pulling it down quickly. No need to fly the flag full-mast today. Yes, really no need!

The trip to the Great Hall was without incident, Ron and Hermione walking close to the cat carrying its tail between its legs. They hid discreetly in an alcove just before reaching the Hall, and Harry changed back again, anxiously stretching out a lock of hair.

"It's all right, mate, all normal there," Ron said, choking back a laugh. "If I were you, I'd look a bit lower."

Turning away from him, Harry stifled a groan, and tried to enter the Hall in as dignified manner as possible. A task complicated by the barely concealed laughter of Ron and Hermione behind him.

The first thing Harry noticed was the unusual number of empty places at the High Table. It wasn't rare that one or other of the professors failed to show, but never before had he seen Dumbledore's seat empty without good reason. A quick glance made his throat tighten: two other seats were empty as well: Snape's, and Madam Pomfrey's. He added it all up quickly…

He was about turn on his heels when he caught McGonagall's eyes, and the slight nod of her head. He walked toward her, full of apprehension. Around him, all conversation had fallen silent, replaced with a buzz of murmuring. Again. Would this never end? Did there always have to be a reason for people to look at him like he was some sort of circus animal? But that wasn't the most important thing just now.

"Mr. Potter," the professor greeted him when he reached the table. "I believe I've understood from the rumors that you intend to hold Quidditch tryouts this afternoon?"

Harry stayed stunned for a moment. Didn't she have anything more important to tell him? But his Head of House's piercing eyes pushed him to respond.

"If that doesn't bother you, Professor," he began. "About that… Professor Snape was supposed to supervise my outings to the pitch to avoid…any incidents, but I don't think he's available right now," he said casually.

The mixture of indignation and worry in McGonagall's eyes had definitely been worth the words, he decided.

"Enlighten me, Mr. Potter," she drawled, "you intended to have the Gryffindor team tryouts supervised by the Head of Slytherin?"

Well, putting it that way….

"I could ask Rem…Professor Lupin."

"That won't be necessary," McGonagall stated dryly. "You may start beginning at three o'clock. Don't even think about putting a foot outside the castle without me, is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am, but…" After an instant of hesitation, Harry leant toward the table and asked more softly, "How is the professor?"

McGonagall's face softened. "Nothing serious, Harry. The Headmaster is with him just now. If you need anything, come and ask me, all right?"

The boy agreed, but the worried look in her eyes didn't go unnoticed. The witch offered him a comforting smile. "Go eat, Mr. Potter. You need it." Then she added, "It's a pleasure to see you among us again."

Harry returned her smile, then went back to his usual place, feeling the weight of the eyes watching him. It would be strange to see Snape again at that table, he thought as he filled his plate. Would he still go on shooting him those black looks, or would he ignore him? Would he have that imperceptible smile that Harry learnt to detect these last few months?

But he had no more time to think; two fifth-years had shyly approached him, obviously wanting to talk to him. Not already, he thought, not yet. Did he have to make a public announcement that yes, once again, he'd fought Voldemort, and yes, he'd come out of it alive, and that no, he wasn't signing autographs?

"Excuse me…looks like you're holding trials for the Quidditch team this afternoon?" one of the boys asked.

Oh. Quidditch.

"Starting at three, on the pitch," Harry announced. "Be dressed and warmed up. And try to be good."

The two students smiled outright before returning to their places, whispering excitedly between them. About Quidditch, Harry told himself, only Quidditch. He sighed. He'd obviously eaten too much.

"I think I'll go back up," he said to his friends. "I'm not hungry anymore. I have to start to get the moves for tryouts ready anyway."

"I'll go with you," Ron quickly offered as he stood with his mouth full.

"I'm coming too," Hermione added. "Room of Requirement?"

Harry nodded, and a few minutes later, all three of them fell into the comfortable chairs with a sigh of relief.

"I hope they'll find the wolves that were able to get in soon," Ron began. "I'm starting to get paranoid. I actually thought that suit of armor was trying to attack you in the corridor."

Harry shuddered—he'd had the same impression.

"This whole affair makes me nervous too. If only Hagrid were here; I'm sure he'd know something." Then, after thinking for a moment, he added, "Do you think the twins would have any ideas? You know, about the underground passages…"

"In fact," Hermione said, "Dumbledore already questioned them, as experts on the subject. The underground passages explain certain things, but not all of them."

"I suppose we'll still have to be careful for a while," Harry sighed. Thoughtfully, he stared off into the fireplace. It was warm, he realized, too warm… The Room of Requirement overdid things a bit sometimes. But something about this heat didn't seem right. Unconsciously, he brought his hand up to his forehead. Burning. He was burning up. His scar…

His vision clouded over, and the mist he'd been in the entire night floated around him again, thick and turbulent. And that oppressive feeling, the anxiety…

_He's mine._

Black eyes. A flash of red light. And suddenly, everything disappeared again.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" Hermione's voice seemed to be coming from miles away. But when he opened his eyes, she was standing just beside him, leaning toward him, clearly worried.

"I…yes," he replied. "Did you see that?"

Worried, questioning eyes answered him.

"The fog," he insisted. "And that voice!"

"Harry, there wasn't any fog and no one spoke," Ron said calmly. "Maybe we should go get Madam Pomfrey or Dumbledore. Are you all right, mate?"

The boy brought a hand up to his forehead uncertainly. "Yeah, it was nothing. Nothing important anyway." _Just Voldemort wanting to say hullo, nothing serious._

Merlin, Severus had to wake up. All that'd happened to him recently was bothering him too much for his Occlumency shields to be effective. It was obvious he'd not convinced Ron or Hermione either. It was time to change tactics.

"Actually, do you have any idea who'll be trying out for Keeper?'" he asked the other boy casually. Ron hesitated for an instant, before giving in to the temptation and launching into a passionate discussion on the merits of several candidates for the position. Hermione looked on, her eyes amused and exasperated.

Harry smiled slightly. The day could still turn out well after all.

***

All in all, he hadn't been mistaken. The tryouts session was grueling, but it was exactly what he needed: to throw himself wholeheartedly into the sky, surrounded by Gryffindors. A few too many, perhaps. As Hermione had predicted, most of Gryffindor seemed determined to be on the team, under Harry's wing, even those of them who could hardly stay on a broom.

The new Captain had to begin his career by firmly rejecting all candidates who'd only come to have fun and see the Boy Who'd Lived Again, before finally being able to get down to work under McGonagall's attentive eyes.

When the sun set on the pitch, they were all exhausted, but there'd not been a single incident to spoil the tryouts, and the team was now complete.

Followed by a deliriously happy Ron, and a Ginny who was very satisfied with herself, as well as a seemingly conspiring Hermione, Harry went back to the Gryffindor common room to celebrate the creation of the new Gryffindor team, and to finally decide on the first practice dates.

It was just before curfew when McGonagall decided to put an end to the little party, and accompanied Harry back to his dungeon rooms.

It was with relief that Shadow took his form, and followed the Head of Gryffindor along the way to the dungeons, with a clear cut intuition that this day was going to finish badly.

With every step that took him closer to the Potions master, he could feel the heavy anxiety weigh in on him a bit more, pushing him to move on at top speed. Severus. He had to get back to Severus, and quickly! He was almost running, McGonagall at his heels, when they finally reached the door to the professor's rooms.

It opened immediately to let them pass through, and Shadow rushed toward the Man In Black's room. He hadn't been wrong, he quickly realized. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey were standing around the bed, their faces drawn with fatigue and concern. Harry didn't miss the spark of guilt that crossed through the Headmaster's blue eyes when he saw the cat. Harry transformed immediately and went to the figure stretched out on the bed.

Snape was still asleep, in the same position as when he'd left him that morning, except for a single difference, though. Severus' face was contorted by an expression of extreme tension, and covered with a sheen of sweat that made his pallor even waxier.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and Harry turned slowly to face the Headmaster, who was standing slightly away from him, as if he feared a new outburst. In a voice so tired and broken that the boy almost felt sorry for him, Dumbledore announced the verdict.

"I'm sorry, my boy. Something didn't work correctly. We've tried everything. It's impossible to wake Severus."

* * *

_THanks again to Raewhit for the translation! Sooo fast!_

_And yes, I know, evil cliffie again ;-) Next chapter will be quite... eventful actually. I'll have to put some warning for that. I hope you'll like it ! Thanks to all the reviewers, chocolate frogs to you! ( well I'm on a diet, so you can have it all, really!)_


	34. Chapter 34 Never Look Back

**Chapter Thirty-four: Never Look Back**

*** warning for violent scenes***

"What have you done?" Harry murmured, his eyes staring at Severus' contorted face. "What have you done to him?"

But Dumbledore shook his head. "It's not the spell I cast, Harry. It was performed correctly. Something's interfering with the sleep in which I put Professor Snape, and I fear that's not good news," he said somberly.

Harry shuddered.

_He's mine_. The red eyes. Voldemort.

Like a robot, he went for the bed and grabbed Severus' left arm, baring it to the elbow. The Mark was more horrible than ever: indistinct, doughy, torturous, but especially red and pulsating.

He lifted a hand to the scar on his forehead. Yes, Voldemort was trying to take back his Death Eater, or at least punish him and take him away from Harry. Well, that wasn't going to happen; that psychopath was cruelly mistaken—Severus was Harry's, and no one else's! He placed his hand on the Mark and covered it with his palm. Then, turning to Dumbledore, he said, "I'll take care of it. Leave us."

The cold, distant tone of his voice made the three adults freeze instantly. Poppy was the first to react. "You'll take care of what, Mr. Potter. Out of the question!"

Harry shot her an irritated look. "I can go back in there and look for him. Voldemort's not going to have him."

This time, he could clearly see Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall jump.

"Into his dream, is that what you mean, Harry" Dumbledore asked softly.

The boy nodded.

"I doubt that's very wise," the Headmaster continued.

"I doubt you have a choice," Harry retorted. "Unless you intend to let Voldemort kill him."

"We're not at that point, Mr. Potter," the mediwitch protested. "Right now it's a matter of an agitated sleep-state, from which it's impossible to remove Professor Snape. Nothing so very dramatic."

"A sleep agitated by Voldemort, you don't find that dramatic?" Harry felt his anger slowly rising. When were they all going to stop meddling in what didn't concern them? They wouldn't have been in this situation if Dumbledore hadn't cast that stupid spell in the first place.

"There are other ways, Harry. I'm going to do some research," Dumbledore tried to appease him. "We won't abandon Severus."

"Exactly," Harry said in a scornful voice he didn't recognize. "Do your research. Me, I'm going to look for him."

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall intervened dryly, "you must do something about this obsession for saving the world, which seems to have become a habit. You must learn to let adults take care of the important problems, starting with this one. No one is asking you to save everyone," she finished in a gentler voice.

Harry turned slowly toward her. "I'm sorry, Professor, but if you ask me to defeat Voldemort, then you're asking me to save everyone. Whatever you think, Severus needs me now. Me and nobody else. Professor Dumbledore should've perhaps been able to do it before, I don't know…" he hesitated, "but it's too late now. Not after what's happened."

Turning to the Headmaster this time, he said, "I know what I'm doing, Professor. I just have to fall asleep here. Could you cast a lighter spell on me than you cast on Severus?"

Dumbledore's face became grave. "What do you think you can do, Harry?"

"What I already did last night," the boy replied. "Find Severus in the dream and put him out of danger. Except this time…I'll do it so I can get him out of there. You could help, I suppose, by reversing the spell on me, or something like that." He looked the Headmaster straight in the eye. "You know we don't have a choice."

A flash of pain crossed through the Headmaster's eyes as he slowly nodded. "Very well."

"Albus!"

"Minerva, I'm afraid Harry's right. A unique link connects him to Severus…and to Voldemort."

"We don't' even know if You-Know-Who is the origin of the problem!" Madam Pomfrey protested.

"He is," Harry assured her. "I saw him in my dreams last night. He wants to make Professor Snape pay for his betrayal."

"Mr. Potter," said McGonagall, her voice shaking with indignation, "I repeat that it's not up to you to save the world; Professor Dumbledore can very well—"

"Minerva," the Headmaster interrupted as he raised a hand, "Harry has a point. Severus no longer trusts me enough to allow me to help him, and I don't possess the connection that Harry shares with Voldemort. We must be very careful, but it's the best chance Professor Snape has."

"Albus, he's a child!" Minerva protested.

"Severus' child," Harry said in a low voice. A silence ensued, only the beating of his heart sounding in his ears. Had he really just said that? In front of everyone? Oh, Merlin.

"Minerva, Poppy, could you wait in the sitting room? I'll alert you if I need you."

After a moment of uncertainty, Harry heard the footsteps of the two witches as they left. The door closed, and he was alone with Dumbledore…and Severus.

"Do you think I should transform into the cat?" he asked without looking up. "That's how I was when I found him last night."

"Do what you think best, my boy," Dumbledore said calmly. "But don't take any unnecessary risks. I'm convinced that Professor Snape will find a way out of this on his own, in any case."

Harry shook his head. "I have to go there. Are you going to help me?"

He sensed more than heard Dumbledore agree, and before he could even think, he'd jumped to the bed in his cat form. He'd barely settled himself in place on the professor's chest when he heard the murmured spell and felt his body relax.

And he fell, slowly, into the dream…or, rather, the nightmare.

The storm again. Swirls of foul and violent wind surrounded him, buffeted him, howling to the point of almost bursting his eardrums. Flattening his ears against his head, he started to go forward, searching for the eye of the cyclone as he crawled more than he walked.

Severus. Severus. Man In Black, where are you?

A faint reply, from far off, like a moan.

Onward. He had to go onward. The wind seemed to pursue him, lashing at his sides, and he thought he heard a voice in the incessant whistling.

_He is mine. You will pay. My powers. You will not escape. I'll kill you all._

Spurred on by anger, Shadow increased his efforts. The red eyes followed him through the fog, but he sensed he was nearing his goal…there, in front of him, he could make out a vague figure, its head thrown back, black hair whipping in the wind. The cat tried to make out the face, but it seemed too smooth, too frozen, like…a mask! A horrible white mask covered the professor's face, a Death Eater mask, Harry realized, its two black holes revealing only the eyes—feverish, clouded, and blind.

Gathering his strength, he managed to make it to the man's feet, as the form seemed to disintegrate in the wind. And suddenly, he was no longer on four paws, but on his own two feet, his face just below Snape's mask. Harry looked down at his hand; his wand wasn't there, but he didn't need it—not in a dream, did he?

Raising his hands, he grabbed the mask and tried unsuccessfully to pull it off. The cold, smooth mask seemed fused to the wizard's head, as if they were made of one piece. Harry put his hand on Snape's shoulder, but the man didn't react, sunk too deeply in his trance.

Divert the wind, first he had to divert the wind…but how, if Severus wasn't looking at him? And the voice that keep hissing around them, murmuring threats and death sentences, intensified the already profound feeling of despair that filled him.

Giving in for a moment to discouragement, Harry let himself lean against the professor's diffuse form, his forehead resting against his chest.

For an instant, he thought he could smell the professor's scent, that mixture of potions and spices. Then he abruptly felt himself being sucked into the darkness, and when the colors returned, the landscape around him had changed.

A Pensieve, he thought at first, but no, it was different. Too unstable, too realistic. These were indeed memories, though. The professor's. Harry probably shouldn't be there, he thought with a twinge of guilt, but it was too late now. A sharp thud made him jump…a door—the slamming of a door and the presence of another person in Severus' memory.

A pair of hateful black eyes, watching a little boy in a child's bed. A woman's eyes…

"If only you didn't exist. It's your fault…it's all your fault!"

The boy, hardly more than a baby, really, hunched back in the bed, half-wounded, half-afraid. Her jaw clenched, the woman walked stiffly towards the child, before stopping and doing an about face, only to disappear again, leaving a deeply despondent, lost little Severus.

This was rather a bad way to start, Harry thought. But before he had time to analyze the scene, darkness once again filled his vision.

"_Crucio_!"

"Master! I didn't lie! I'm at your service…always!"

"Not enough! It wasn't enough! _Crucio!"_

The pain was so intense that Harry would've liked to roll on the ground, but he didn't even have a body in this vision. It was a much younger Severus who writhed in pain, a mixture of bitterness, resignation and outrage in the pit of his stomach.

And once again, the black reappeared and gave way to a new vision, older than the one before it. Severus as a little boy of seven, or just about, Harry thought. The vision might've been entertaining if it hadn't been so terrifying. Huddling in a corner of the room, his cheeks streaked with tears, the boy was staring at a huge figure, made even more gigantic by his terrified childish perspective.

A man who probably wouldn't have been so intimidating, Harry decided, if he hadn't been drunk, clearly wild with anger, and armed with a leather whip he was brandishing about his head as he screamed, "I'm going to teach you who's in charge here! I'm going to teach you to obey!"

The man was too intoxicated to aim well, but that didn't keep the lash of the whip from consistently hitting its target with a sharp crack, pulling a shriek from the child.

Horrified, Harry looked for a way to get close to the boy, who was clearly trying to make himself as small as possible, terrified as well as contorted with pain. Harry had to do something to protect him before the adult, his father, surely, started to attack him again.

"Stop crying! You're really good for nothing!" the man bellowed as he staggered, his eyes glaring. "When are you going to learn to stay out of my way, huh? You think your magic will save you? You think you're better than me, you little brat?"

The boy shook his head vehemently, but obviously without hope.

"You see this?" the man said as he brandished the whip. "This, this'll do more than all the magic in the world to make you respect me!"

He swayed again, before going for the boy once more, an unpleasant smile on his face. Severus drew back a bit more into his corner, his heart about to pound out of his chest. Harry could feel his terror, seeping from every pore of his skin, when the huge figure leant over him, with a motion that was almost too agile and restrained. Slowly, the man lifted the whip up in front of the child's face, breathing his alcohol-laced breath at him.

"Show me you understand, Severus. Show me you've learnt your lesson. Kiss it. Do it."

For an instant, the little boy's black eyes grew larger, meeting those of the brute who passed for his father. Harry could see the nasty gleam in the drunken eyes, the cruelty and the man's desire to dominate…and an instant afterward, he felt the boy's emotions roil within in him with a violence much too intense for his age; he felt the fear and anxiety transform into a ball of fury and outrage, in face of this new humiliation. He wouldn't' submit, no, not like this, not to this man!

In the next instant, Tobias Snape and his whip went flying across the room to crash violently against the wall, as the burning eyes of the boy looked on. The father had just time enough to shoot a surprised and hateful look at his son, before falling into unconsciousness. Severus got up, staggering as his father had, harrowed by this little victory, and more despairing than he'd ever been, without being able to understand why…

And the black came again…

"Where is he? Where is he, Severus?"

"I don't know, Master, but I'm in a good position to find…"

"_Crucio!"_

Once again, unbearable pain.

"Where is Potter, Severus?"

Potter? Harry shuddered. Was he talking about him? But Severus seemed much younger in this vision. Was the spy protecting his father? Harry stared at Voldemort, seeking their connection across time. But it was a much different Tom Riddle in front of him now, and no connection existed between them…no way to distract him with something that had yet to happen.

"Dumbledore's hiding him," Snape gasped, kneeling on the ground. "He doesn't trust me enough…but I'll know…I'll find out, Master."

"That'd be best for you. And quickly."

"Yes, Master. Forgive me, Master."

Spite, bitterness. And submission this time, in the face of all opposition…a ball of fire in the pit of his stomach, but still on his knees.

Once again the scene changed, carrying a lost Harry with it. What was he supposed to make of all of this? These weren't dreams, but memories; he couldn't change any of it.

A park this time, and two little girls, one a redhead on a swing, and the other one with her had to be her sister. They seemed vaguely familiar, without Harry being able to place them.

Severus, hardly older than in the last childhood vision, was talking animatedly with the two little girls. Obviously, the older one didn't seem to like Severus much. With tears in her eyes, she turned to him, red-faced. "Are you wearing your mother's clothes today?"

It was the boy's turn to see red. His eyes glanced up at the branch just above the girl, and a nasty smile spread across his face. All his pent-up rage was let loose with the _crack._

The little girl cried out when the branch struck her, but it was her sister with the red hair and green eyes who turned to Severus. "Sev! That's bad!"

Severus seemed pitiful, his anger suddenly gone. He didn't want Lily to think that about him…

"It wasn't me!" he lied. But Lily wasn't fooled.

"Come on, Tuney, we're going home."

The two sisters turned their backs to him and walked away, leaving him lost and alone. What had he done wrong? He'd just defended himself. Petunia was always after him, jealous, and she was only a Muggle, like Tobias…

He didn't want Lily to be angry with him over that! She was the only witch in the neighborhood, and his only friend as well. He would be careful, if she wanted him to be. Anything not to lose her friendship and respect.

Lily, Harry smiled. Obviously. So that was what his mother looked like when she'd been little…and Aunt Petunia! She'd already had that starchy manner he'd always known…but before he had any more time to think about it, the flood of memories carried him off again.

"You belong to me, Severus. Have you forgotten that?" a dark voice whispered, the tall, black figure towering over Snape, who was kneeing on the ground once again.

"No, Master," he murmured, his voice broken. "I belong to you, body and soul."

"And a bit more than that, even," Voldemort replied. "Have you forgotten whom you serve, Death Eater? Your loyalty seems to be wavering."

"Never, Master," Severus answered wearily, as if he'd lived this scene too many times before, and already knew the inevitable ending.

"So prove it. Bring me that potion, tomorrow, first thing."

Severus almost protested. It was impossible, he wouldn't have the time—the potion took a week to prepare. He bowed his head. He didn't have a choice. He'd have to find a way, or suffer the consequences. Probably the latter.

"Yes, Master."

"Brave boy," Voldemort said, laughing softly, tapping the Potions master on the head. "Don't make me doubt you again, Severus. Don't force me to punish you."

"No, Master," Snape replied, trying not to tense his jaw, the discouragement threatening to become resignation.

"But just in case…_Crucio!"_

Severus collapsed into the dust, and there was darkness again. Harry felt himself tremble in spite of his lack of a body. What did all the wizards who wanted to become Death Eaters actually think? Did they realize what awaited them? Enslavement, torture…and Snape hadn't really been one of them, not for a long time. How could he have…but it wasn't the time to ask this sort of question. Harry had to find a way to get Severus out of here before he was completely destroyed by the pictures and emotions rushing unceasingly through his head, probably much more painfully for him than for Harry. He had to find a way to get in. He'd try something in the next vision. Gathering his thoughts, he prepared himself to intervene and pull Snape from his memories.

A faint light replaced the darkness, and Harry stepped forward to try and see something, dreading what was going to happen this time. Sounds of footsteps, a half-open door… Severus was tiptoeing forward to try and see what was happening in the sitting room, from where a greenish light was streaming out.

Floo powder, green flames, the fireplace, on top of which stood a little china figurine of a shepherdess, the only keepsake that Eileen had kept of her family. Mother was talking to Prince again. The boy's heart began to beat faster.

"Father, I made a mistake," Eileen Snape's voice begged, as she leant against the fireplace. "I should've listened to you; I should've never married a Muggle. I'm sorry…"

"I'm happy to hear it," a man's deep voice replied from the fireplace. "But it's too late, Eileen."

"No, let me come back, Father. I've understood my mistakes, I want to come back to the Manor and be part of our family!" Eileen went on, clearly desperate. "I won't deceive you anymore, Father!"

"A marriage with a Muggle is always possible to undo, even though this betrayal is impossible to erase," Severus' grandfather said, "but with this child, this half-blood? It's too late, Eileen. No bastard will have a home in the Prince family."

"I can leave him," the young woman said earnestly. "I can leave him with Tobias; no one will know a thing, Father."

Severus' heart twisted cruelly, but he didn't back away. He wanted to hear the rest. He wanted to know.

"He's a wizard, whether you like it or not. He's there and he cannot be ignored. It's over, Eileen. You chose your life and your marriage. Try to glean what good you can from it. You're no longer part of our family."

With that, the torso of the bearded man disappeared, and the young woman tried to throw herself into the green flames after him.

"Father, no, wait!"

But the wards guarding the Prince side of the fireplace repelled the banished daughter, and Eileen was pushed back into the little sitting room of Spinner's End with a cry of despair. It took her a minute to get up again, trembling, before walking heavily toward the door, behind which Severus was hiding. The boy drew back quickly, frightened, and crept away to sit on his bed, an open book on his knees.

Slowly, the door opened, revealing a woman with hair and eyes every bit as black as Severus', all the features of her face frozen in a mask of fury. Without a word, she went to her son, and Harry noticed the wand she held in her hand.

"If you weren't here…if only you didn't exist…" she hissed, her jaw clenched.

The boy seemed to grow smaller on the spot, his face defeated. He didn't look away from his mother, not even when she pointed her wand at him.

"Without you, they'd let me go home."

Severus didn't answer, his insides frozen by something that seemed to consume him at the same time…despair, maybe. Without looking away, the witch made a slight motion with her hand.

"_Avada…"_

Harry wanted to leap forward, but his lack of a body confined him to the role of a spectator. But Snape had survived, he remembered; he'd grown up to become the professor. Eileen hadn't killed her son…but Merlin, what could he do to get Snape out of this?

A green light ignited at the end of the wand. Severus didn't move, he didn't tremble, he didn't even seem to breathe. Slowly, after what seemed an eternity, the arm holding the wand fell, leaving the spell suspended. Suspended for eternity, Harry thought, while Eileen Snape, formerly Prince, left the room without a word.

The door closed, and Severus finally shut his eyes, more emotionally exhausted than ever. More alone as well. She'd not done it, of course. He would've liked to believe, if only for a second, that she loved him enough not to do it. But that hadn't been it, of course. He'd seen her, he'd read her thoughts as she'd held him at wandpoint, piercing her mind… She'd been afraid. Afraid of horrifying her parents. Afraid of them sending her to Azkaban instead of welcoming her home. Afraid of having to pay for the murder of her son.

He didn't want to open his eyes again. Never again. He wasn't angry, not even sad. No, he only felt empty, emptier than he would've thought possible. Slowly, he fell back onto the bed and desperately looked for something to fill this emptiness, which seemed larger than the entirety of the world.

There'd been laughter, a silhouette, a little girl…Lily. Yes, there was always Lily. Even when there was nothing else.

Nothing else.

Frozen in place, Harry watched, not registering that the scene was turning black. How could she? How could this woman have done that? To her son? Merlin, and he'd thought Petunia was horrible. He'd thought he'd known what it was like to be rejected by one's family! Obviously, Severus won by a long stretch. By several miles, in fact.

Harry jumped when Voldemort's voice rent the darkness again.

And suddenly, Harry realized that he'd missed the crux of the matter. The pattern seemed well planned out…the scenes were precise, painful, but not only physically, it was more than that. These were key moments, it occurred to him, those that had made Severus who he was. His choices, his decisions—all that had changed his view of things to make him the bitter professor Harry knew. All that remained was to know where this film was supposed to go next, and how to get Severus out of this damnable cycle of memories. It was similar to what he'd experienced at Malfoy Manor…except that these memories had been real. Too real.

"…a huge mistake, Severus! Much too huge to be forgivable!"

"Master, I thought it was the right…"

"By killing another Death Eater?" Voldemort asked coldly.

"He risked compromising the entire operation! He wasn't following your orders, Master, it was inevitable!" Severus protested.

"As inevitable as your punishment, I assume," the Dark Lord said slowly. Severus took a deep breath, obviously sensing there was nothing he could do.

"Yes, Master."

"Lucius, what spell did he use on Trevis?"

"Sectumsempra, Master," Malfoy replied in a syrupy voice. Harry felt his mind come alive. Sectumsempra, the spell Severus had taught him? Given what the spell had done to the tree, he really didn't want to see its effect on a human being.

"Very well. You know what remains for you to do. All of you," Voldemort directed the circle of Death Eaters present, "take care of him. See that he learns his lesson…but leave him sufficiently intact so he can bring me my potions tomorrow evening. Understood?"

"With pleasure, Master," the Death Eaters replied. And pleasure really was the case, Harry realized, given how their greedy eyes were fixed on Snape. Malfoy was the first to draw his wand, his Sectumsempra quickly followed by those of the others. Within a few minutes, Severus was reduced to a bloody mass, the cuts not seeming to have spared an inch of his skin.

He wasn't going to die. Severus knew that Voldemort wouldn't permit it—his talents as a Potions master were too precious. But oh, Merlin, how much easier death would've been.

On the verge of nausea, Harry wasn't far from thinking the same. He had to put an end to all of this, and quickly, before he lost his mind, and Severus along with it.

If only he could come up with an idea, a way of getting Snape out of his trance…

But a new scene was already forming. This time, Harry recognized the house of the Snape family—the sparse decoration, the impression of cold and neglect. Severus was older now, probably about the same age as he, thought Harry. Heart pounding, he opened the outer door, wand in hand, his throat thick with anxiety. And not without reason, Harry noted.

There, in the little sitting room that had been witness to so many family dramas, two bodies lay, separated in death as they had been in life. Severus first went to that of Tobias, near the bookcase. The old brute had tried to reach his gun in the drawer…too late. His wide open and expressionless eyes stared at the ceiling now, a remnant of the anger Severus had always recognized still on his face.

Too late, Father. Always, always too late.

Slowly, he headed toward the other body lying on the rug, a white wand at its side. Too late as well, Mother, thought the teenager. Eileen Snape's black, unfathomable eyes had nothing more to say now—neither regret, nor the bitterness that had always been there.

She was right, in the end, Severus thought. It'd all been his fault, finally. He nudged the wand with his foot…another missed opportunity, Mother. Another bad choice. I'm sorry. Sorry for not being sorry.

He probably should've closed their eyes, or levitated them to their bed, made them presentable…but for what? He was finished with them. Finished with this place. With this life. With Lily as well, of course. He no longer had a choice, did he? In a few minutes, Lily would go through the Evans' door and encounter the came chaotic scene. Two Avada Kedavras, two bodies, two warnings. But not for her, of course.

With a last look at the little sitting room—bloody hell, it'd seemed so big to him at one time—Severus headed for the door, leaving his parents' bodies there. After an instant's hesitation, though, he took a detour to the fireplace to grab the little china shepherdess, the only valuable object in the house that'd survived Tobias Snape, the only magical object as well. The only thing he'd ever seen Eileen Snape, née Prince, cherish.

Without a backward glance, Severus slid the figurine into his pocket, and softly closed the door behind him. Forever.

Once out on the steps, he took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the end of the dead-end street. Life was but a vast dead-end street, he thought…whatever happened, there was still only one road…the one he was being forced to take. Tobias and Eileen were dead now, and he wouldn't waste time regretting it. A few streets from here, the only adults who'd been kind to him as a child were lying dead as well, and all four of them had inexorably plotted out his path.

Tomorrow, or in a week, he'd break off with Lily. He had to protect her at all costs, from himself and from Voldemort. And when the year at Hogwarts was over, he'd take the Dark Mark, and follow the path for which he was destined.

It wasn't important, he tried to make himself believe. And it was for the best. The lesser of evils, in any case. It was all he could hope.

The black again. Dazed by the scene he'd just witnessed, Harry was incapable of thought for a moment. How could one feel so much fatalism? Despair? No, not despair, he corrected himself. A total absence of hope, and absolute emptiness?

He jumped when he heard the piercing cries in the dark, the incantations mixed in with insults, the characteristic sound of a brawl…no, of a battle, he decided. Black, masked figures were fighting other wizards, for whom the battle seemed to be lost in advance.

"Kill them," came the implacable voice of Voldemort. Around them, the green rays fused together, and several bodies fell to the ground, leaving only a handful of wizards without wands to face the Death Eaters.

"All Mudbloods," the Dark Lord's imperious voice hissed. "All unworthy of their magic. Amuse yourselves, Death Eaters, make them pay for their betrayals."

Without being told further, most of the masked wizards aimed at their disarmed targets and cast a volley of curses, one more imaginative than the next. Only Severus stayed to the back, observing the spectacle without participating…which Voldemort didn't delay to notice as well.

"Severus, what are you waiting for? That woman is alone, no one to take care of her properly. You wouldn't want to keep her waiting, would you? I know better than anyone…your inventiveness when it comes to curses," he whispered.

"Thank you, Master, but I fear these activities will compromise certain potions, which require that the preparer not have blood on his hands," Snape disagreed.

"Nonsense. You will not have blood on your hands. This is but a bit of diversion…you may leave the final touch to Lucius—he's particularly fond of doing it." Then he said more slowly, "Go on, Severus. You wouldn't want to disappoint me?"

Harry felt Snape grind his teeth beneath his mask. The feint had failed.

"No, Master, of course not. _Crucio!"_

The witch he'd aimed at fell to the ground, crying out in pain, while Severus tried to throw up all the Occlumency shields he could. Pretend. Not give himself away. Stay behind the mask, and please Voldemort.

The woman lost consciousness, and a bony hand squeezed Snape's shoulder.

"I knew you had a gift for these curses, Severus. I must not forget to take you on the next Muggle raid…your help is invaluable."

A little laugh slipped from Voldemort's mouth as he went toward the rest of the Death Eaters, busy with demonstrating their value.

The laugh was still resounding when the darkness resumed, Severus holding desperately onto the emptiness, to the shields, so as not to vomit on his black boots, there, in front of the still body of his victim.

Act, he had to act, Harry ordered himself. There, now, before another memory began. He had to find a way…of inserting one of his own memories into Severus', find a weak spot, something for him to hold on to.

But it was too late. And new scene was already unfolding. But not so different, this one…

A circle of Death Eaters again. At its center Severus, his left arm bared as Voldemort took a solemn step toward him.

"Severus Snape," he began in a powerful voice, "today you've killed and tortured in my name. Are you ready to join my ranks, to ally yourself to my power?"

Harry shuddered, but not Severus.

"I am," he replied firmly. And he was, Harry realized. Nothing in the Potions master's mind seemed to hesitate or waver. He was but a block of ice, having hidden away the deepest depths of himself behind his shields, repressing all emotions, whatever they might've been.

"With this Mark, become my servant, in all things and for always. May it be the symbol of your membership, of your convictions. May it preserve your loyalty to me, your faithfulness to your commitments. May it be the key to link you to your Master and his Death Eaters, the instrument of your glory as well as your punishment, an indelible instrument which nothing will be able to erase. Today, you are entering into my service, and forsaking all other attachments, loyalties, all other servitudes except for my own."

Without a word, Severus bowed his head and held out his arm. Slowly, with all the decorum required by the ceremony, Voldemort seized it and pressed his palm to the inside of Snape's forearm, which quickly began to exude a blackish smoke.

Harry could feel the shooting pain, the intense burning afflicting the man standing there, stiff but motionless and silent, only the tenseness of his face and the sweat dripping from his forehead betraying his suffering. The torture seemed to go on forever, until Snape finally fell to his knees as his strength failed him.

Clearly satisfied, Voldemort let go of his arm at last, leaving a large, red characteristic brand. Harry shuddered. A head, a snake…the Dark Mark was now imprinted on Severus' arm.

"Death Eater," Voldemort continued, "may your obedience be without fail, may your loyalty never waver. All that you have belongs to me, and all you have to lose will be destroyed if you disappoint me. Satisfy me and you'll be rewarded beyond all your desires. Follow me without hesitation to victory, and you'll at last be recognized for your true worth. Stand, Severus. Take your place in your new family."

Gathering his strength, Snape managed to get up shakily, resisting the urge to clap a hand over the horrible scar to stop the pain.

The shields were still in place, Harry noted, but he could still feel Severus' emotions. Voldemort had carefully chosen his words…glory, recognition, a family that would support him…all things the teenager had always wanted. But even as he stepped back to take his place in the Death Eater circle, he could feel the last of his hope drain away. He didn't want to belong to this manic who'd killed his parents and the Evanses. He didn't want to be known for his misdeeds as a Death Eater. He didn't want this glory. He didn't want this family.

He wanted Lily; he wanted to run in Magnus' field with her again; he wanted to build a house with her, and laugh with her, and take his rest, and simply be happy perhaps.

But it was too late. Much too late. He'd made his choice. He taken the dead-end street, had struck his boots against its paving stones, and now he was here, trapped.

Finished.

Unable to escape from Severus' emotions, Harry tried to gather his thoughts scattered through space. How could someone feel so many things all at once? Merlin, how could he simply carry such a weight without collapsing and screaming, without rebelling and destroying everything around him? Why hadn't Snape understood earlier, why hadn't he got himself out of this sordid masquerade sooner? That relentless fatalism… Harry would've exploded…or exploded _something_—Dumbledore's office, for example. Dumbledore. Why hadn't Severus turned to Dumbledore?

As if in answer to his question, the black gave way to a new scene…Albus! A cliff…Dumbledore, and Severus, who'd just thrown himself at the old man's feet, obviously panic-stricken. The look the Headmaster gave Severus froze Harry's heart.

"Don't kill me!"

"I don't intend to."

Severus seemed barely more reassured than Harry, and for more good reason. He was coming to betray his master, he understood. He was coming to offer himself to Dumbledore. But the Headmaster hardly seemed ready to welcome his future Potions master with open arms.

"You disgust me."

The words, as well as Albus' tone, slid like a knife into Snape's chest. What had he been expecting? Scorn followed him wherever he went, whatever he did. Whatever he chose. It was always too late…

But Dumbledore didn't give him time to mull over his bitterness or his panic. Within a few minutes, he'd extracted all the necessary information, and offered him the assurance that Lily would be protected. Within a few minutes, he'd guaranteed him the semblance of a refuge as well, and then had inevitably sent him back to his master.

Severus swallowed hard. Spying for Dumbledore. Spying on Voldemort, the greatest psychopath the world had ever known. Risking his life, and even then some…every moment of every day. For Lily. And for his redemption, if that were still possible.

It was the icy eyes of Albus Dumbledore, devoid of all compassion, that closed the memory, returning them to blessed darkness again.

Never before had Harry seen that expression in the Headmaster's eyes. Severity, yes, sorrow, sometimes, but that hardness? He was aware, though, of the deep friendship between the Headmaster and the Potions master now…what could've happened during all those years? But Severus had only been twenty when this scene had taken place, and there'd been water under the bridge since then…but still…. After having seen Severus' anguished emotions in detail during that meeting, it was difficult to understand why the professor and Dumbledore were so close. Harry himself would've had a hard time forgetting those eyes. And being sent back to a half-certain death.

His mind had wandered, because he'd hardly been aware of the new scene forming in front of him. A battle again. But not against ordinary wizards this time. Obviously, Severus' memories seemed to be following his questions, because they were now at a confrontation between Death Eaters and Order of the Phoenix. He could easily recognize certain of them, but he didn't see his parents' faces in the crowd, though, and he was as relieved by that as Severus was.

Of course, the Order knew of his double role; many scarcely believed it, but Dumbledore's words had to suffice for them. But the instructions about him were no less the same: do not spare Snape—simply make sure he remains alive…if possible.

Neither friend nor enemy in either of these two camps. The Death Eaters mistrusted him since his return to Hogwarts as Potions professor, and none of the Order members seemed ready to accept his change of side so easily. Voldemort kept him on a short leash, Dumbledore watched him closely.

Once again, Severus Snape had only himself to rely on. Only the thought of having saved Lilly allowed him to wear this slight little smile—so calculated and superior—it had the ability to irritate Death Eaters and Order members alike, and to automatically make any student cringe, no matter his age.

But it wasn't enough, though, to spare him his war wounds, he noted, as a spell pierced his shoulder. He could've sworn it'd been cast by a Death Eater. What did it matter? he thought as he wearily continued on in the battle, pretending to increase his ardor against the Order.

Tomorrow, he had to conduct classes and prepare his master's potions. His _masters_, more precisely. And certainly neither of them would accept injury as an excuse. He was a Potions master, after all, as McGonagall had dryly pointed out, the last time he'd returned to Hogwarts, his green robes soaked through with blood.

From that point onward, it was decided: he would only wear black. That would at least spare him that extra humiliation.

Merciless, Harry thought. That's the word he was looking for. Life had proven itself absolutely merciless with Snape. So, had no one ever given him a chance?'

Once again, the vision shifted without transition, as if to answer Harry's impulses. But the boy felt his heart almost come to a standstill at the sight before him, and not only because of Snape.

Mum. Lily. So beautiful…and laughing, with her hand on the shoulder of a boy with brown hair and square glasses. He seemed to be drinking her in with his eyes. Jealousy grabbed hold of Severus, burning him as surely as the Mark.

"Lily?"

The girl turned, surprised, and a flash of sadness crossed through her eyes when she identified her questioner.

"Can I talk to you?" Severus asked in the most controlled voice he could manage. An even younger Severus, Harry realized. They'd just gone backward in time.

After an instant's hesitation, Lily turned to murmur something to James, and the boy walked away sullenly.

"What do you want?" she coolly asked Severus, who shivered at her icy eyes.

"To talk to you," he answered softly.

"All right, I'm here."

"Really?" he asked gently.

"What do you want?" Lily said impatiently. "James is waiting for me."

That had to hurt, Harry thought. Really hurt. More than Severus let on.

"Lily, things have changed…"

"Oh, really? How?" she asked tersely.

"My situation has changed; there's nothing for me to be afraid of anymore," he said as he made a face. "The Dark Lord needs me too much, and—"

Lily let out a forced little laugh. "Needs you, Sev? Voldemort? Do you really believe that nonsense?"

"You don't understand," Severus said, growing impatient, his cheeks suddenly red. "I'm about to become the youngest Potions master in Great Britain; he knows my abilities are valuable. He won't try anything against me or those close to me now…I can…we can…" He fell silent, embarrassed.

Lily shook her head, clearly bewildered. "Severus Snape, you're suggesting we take up with each other again?" she asked.

"I…yes, Lily, I know things haven't been easy, but I'm fond of you; everything that's happened…"

"How dare you!" the girl shouted, taking her turn to flush, but with indignation this time. "After all you've told me? After the way you left me? Do you even have any idea of what I've gone through? Do you realize for an instant the harm you've done me?"

Severus paled. "Lily, I'm sorry…I had to do it—I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice," Lily said dryly as she tossed her hair back.

"I did what I had to for you to be safe," Severus insisted, now sullen. "I did it for you!"

That hadn't been the right thing to say, Harry realized, at the same time as Severus did. Her jaw tensed, Lily took a step backward, as if to walk away, then stepped forward again toward the boy to grab his left arm. Before he could protest, she'd bared his forearm and exposed the Mark. Then, with a gesture of disgust, she pushed it away, the scorn and distress clear in her eyes.

"Don't accuse me of _that,_ Severus Snape," she said calmly. Too calmly. "Don't you ever try to excuse your actions in my name. You made your choices…you chose the side that killed my parents and your own. I don't even understand how…but it's what you want. And I'm nothing but a Mudblood, remember?"

"Lily, no," Severus murmured. But for once, he was right, Harry told himself. It was too late.

"That's enough," Lily said firmly, perhaps a bit too shrilly. "I don't ever want to talk to you again. Stay away from me. Don't speak to me again. Starting today, we don't have anything in common anymore."

Severus gritted his teeth, this time unable to hide the pain that cut through his gut. Sectumsempra…but worse.

"You love him, don't you? Potter?"

Lily's emerald green eyes hardened. "That's none of your affair. But yes. Keep your distance from us, Severus. That's the only advice I have for you…keep to your own kind."

And with that, Lily Evans turned on heel and rushed off toward the figure waiting for her a short distance away, the unruly-haired figure of James Potter, into whose arms the girl threw herself, obviously on the verge of tears. With a murderous look for Severus, James dragged Lily along the path behind a tree, up behind Hogwarts walls…and they disappeared from Severus' sight, who remained alone, the wind whipping his hair into his face.

Alone. Alone with his last hopes, his last illusions trampled underfoot by Lily, and James Potter, blowing away with the dead leaves carried by the wind.

And in every similar confrontation, he seemed to hear the same refrain, the one that'd rocked his childhood, again and again. Your fault. Bad choices. Everything's your fault. Half-blood, bloody bastard, belonging to neither one group nor the other, belonging to _no one._

Alone, against the world.

And he'd probably never had the chance to reconcile with Lily, Harry thought bitterly. Not enough anyway to drain away the well of misery into which the girl had sunk him.

Slowly, like a film that'd gone on too long, as if in slow motion, the scene changed again, so laden with despair and pain and agony that Harry tried with all his strength to push it away. He wanted to control the flood of memories, yes, but not like this.

"You were supposed to protect her!" Severus shouted at Dumbledore, rage and suffering deforming his features. "You promised!"

"They were betrayed," Albus said calmly, apparently insensitive to the young man's pain. "But Harry survived, and Voldemort's vanquished."

"Doesn't matter," groaned the Potions master, his head in his hands. "I wish I were dead…"

And he was speaking the truth, Harry could sense it. He himself would've liked to be dead just then, overwhelmed by the professor's emotions…and his own—this endless regret for all he'd missed, like Severus, for what he could've had, like Severus, for what he would've liked to have said…changed…repaired.

But it was too late, murmured the echo from the depths of Snape's memory.

It'd always been too late, even before he'd been born.

For a moment, Harry let himself float in this feeling of despondency that bathed him, before shaking himself mentally. No. No, it wasn't too late, not for everything, not for what they could _still_ have…the connection they shared right now, and which was perhaps the key.

"Severus," Harry murmured. He felt Snape's consciousness jump.

"Harry…" the professor replied from the depths of his trance. "I kept my word. I protected you. For her, all these years."

"But not just for her, Severus, was it?" Harry asked, full of hope. He had to remind him. He had to bring the happy memories of the last months back to the surface. His own memories, if he had to. Trying to lift himself out of Snape's emotions and memories, Harry pushed the first memory that came to mind to the forefront.

The armchair, Severus, Shadow purring. The wonderful feeling of having a home, of having someone to watch over, and who watched over him.

Slowly, with difficulty, the scene formed in front of him, and Harry held back a cry of triumph: there it was! He could do it!

He could sense Snape's presence, as if in a daze, watching the scene by his side. Yes, the good times in the laboratory…but not only those. The good times in his human form as well. That time in the park when Severus had put his arm around his shoulders, the pride he'd felt, as well as the warmth of the contact, the feeling of no longer being alone…and the conversation by the window that night, when Snape had offered to make them a family, to be there for him.

All of that was real…and it was for Severus as well, he could sense. The Potions master struggled to rise to the surface, to escape the devilish whirlwind of memories forced on him by Voldemort. Encouraged, Harry drew from his memories again. From his emotions, more exactly.

A hand on his forehead, that feeling of gentleness, knowing someone was watching over him. It was Snape's memories that came to the front again, but different memories this time. Those of the nights when Harry'd had nightmares, and Severus had come to comfort him without him knowing, gently stroking his hair, murmuring words of reassurance.

Harry felt himself smile in spite of himself. So that was where it'd come from…that feeling of being protected while he slept…and that wasn't all.

_Protego_. Severus sacrificing himself for him, to protect him. Knowing that Snape, the Man In Black, of all people, was this fond of him. Severus' response wasn't long in coming, in the echo of his own memory.

Protecting Harry, yes, at all costs, because he was important, and not only for the cause…because he was attached to him, more than to his own life. The mixture of affection and apprehension, the desire to protect him, to make him happy…and yes, the paternal love he had for him, Harry felt, and it filled the boy and wrapped him in a protective warmth, sheltered from the wind he could feel whipping around them.

Like when he was Shadow and Snape took him in his arms. When he traveled on his shoulder, proud as a lion king. And Severus as well, Harry noted as he sensed his view of things, amused and proud to have a cat on his shoulder. This cat. His cat. He'd not realized how possessive the Potions master felt about him…and how he feared losing him.

But that wouldn't happen, Harry reaffirmed. He needed Severus. Sensing something warm against himself, the boy opened his eyes. He was there, in front of him, his forehead still resting against the professor's chest, his silhouette distinct now. The mask was still there, he noted, but the eyes saw him now, and Severus' hands were resting on his shoulders.

_I wouldn't leave you. Please, I need you…you promised!_

Snape nodded slowly, his eyes full of regret. He was struggling, Harry noticed, he was struggling for him…but he was trapped, Voldemort's prisoner. Once again, he reached up for the sinister, white mask. He had to do it, now, get the two of them out of this hell.

Severus lowered his head, his eyes boring into Harry's. He would've so much liked…but he had to make him understand that he couldn't follow him. Voldemort had him, and there was nothing he could do against that. He'd sworn fealty to him a long time ago.

_Leave, Harry. Don't stay here, it's dangerous._

_Not without you. You have to wake up, please._

_It's impossible. He won't let me go. Go home, Harry, hurry. Voldemort must not sense you._

_He knows I'm here, and he knows I won't let him have you. Please, I need you…let me try!_

Harrry sensed more than saw Severus nod, and tried automatically to lift the mask. Without success, but he refused to let go of his hold on Snape…memories, he needed more memories!

No, he corrected himself, not memories. That wasn't what they needed… Focusing, he drew up from within himself images of the Manor. Of the winter to come, of a fire in the grate, and a cat…a long walk in the snow with Severus, laughter, the certainty of having somewhere to go, someone with whom to take refuge.

Helping Snape with potions, peacefully, in the laboratory. Coming to see him in secret at Hogwarts, thanks to the Invisibility Cloak, because he needed advice late at night.

_I need you. Please._

Slowly, inch by inch, he could feel the mask detach, freeing Severus' face. Concentrating all his powers and all his strength, Harry labored on.

Strolling Hogwarts' corridors on the professor's shoulder. Scratching the tapestry in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and seeing the students come to complain to their Head of House because _his cat_ was trying to mark his territory in the dungeons. And maybe even—who knows—pissing in Malfoy's precious shoes.

_Please, _he murmured in his mind, _you're my Man In Black. Don't leave me, not after all that's happened. Not now._

And suddenly he had it. He was holding the horrible mask—in the form of a frozen death head—between his fingers, stiff and empty. Without delay, Harry jettisoned it far away, before turning to look anxiously at Severus. The wizard hadn't moved, his figure perfectly distinct now, his pale, tired face angled toward Harry.

Severus slowly reached up and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, who held onto him as if for dear life. Voldemort wouldn't win this time; he'd not carry off one more person he cared for!

_No, he won't win. I won't let him_, Severus replied simply, wrapping Harry in a protective aura that pushed the wind away again, leaving them in the eye of the weakening storm. For some reason Severus couldn't comprehend, the boy who'd come to look for him was fond of him. Despite all he'd put him through, these last five years, Harry had come to look for him to take him back, at his side.

It was probably the first time that someone had come to his rescue. And it was also the first time that someone needed him. Him. Severus Snape, and not just the Potions master or the spy. The boy needed someone at his side to help him grow up, and simply to survive in the world where he'd been thrown, someone to lean on and depend on. Someone for him alone.

Severus would've never believed that one day… After having lived his childhood under Tobias Snape's strict authority, only to quickly fall into the Dark Lord's clutches, after having served two masters, hating the feeling of belonging to another person…after having disowned his family and friends, refusing to let anyone get close to him for almost two decades… Yes, despite all of that, Severus Snape felt ready to let Harry Potter into his life for good, to be the responsible adult the boy was desperately seeking, to dedicate himself to Harry's well-being, whatever was to come.

To tie himself to the boy's fate, body and soul.

As he looked deeply into the boy's eyes so he could read his determination there, it seemed that a dense green light surrounded them, pushing away the rest of the storm. An instant afterward, a blinding flash of lightning struck Severus, and he was violently thrown back, the pain intense despite the fact this was a dream. As he lapsed into a new state of unconsciousness, his last thought was for Harry…and the hope that he'd been spared this time; it was said that lightning never struck in the same place twice.

In what seemed to only be second later (or perhaps a week, he wasn't entirely certain), Severus struggled to open his eyes. His real eyes this time, he realized, as he felt all his aching muscles cry out. Merlin, getting older really wasn't a good thing… It took him only an instant to recall the thread of recent events.

The Headmaster's office. The spell. Dumbledore, that old fool, that traitor… Rage took hold of him. How _could _he? After all this time….

His eyes finally decided to focus, and the first thing he saw was the gleam of worry in Harry's green eyes as he crouched beside him. So, had the boy spent the entire time on his bed? But Severus couldn't be cross with him. Not after what'd just happened…

What _had_ just happened, Merlin!? How long had he been a prisoner in that tailor-made hell?

A burst of rage twisted his stomach, as he quickly cast a look around the room where he was. Hogwarts. His bedroom. But he wasn't alone, and though he had no objection the boy's presence there… On the other hand, what was McGonagall doing in his rooms, in his bedroom, with that worried and vaguely emotional look on her face? This was absolutely appalling! He narrowed his eyes to identify the other figure. Poppy Pomfrey. The mediwitch had taken care of him too often for him to hold this intrusion against her.

The last presence, though…tall stature, hat-covered head, violet robes, the long white beard and the aura of power that belonged to only one person, the last he wanted to see at this precise moment.

His muscles tensed by a rage he'd not felt in years, Severus got to his feet and headed for the man, his fists clenched.

"How could you have?"

His voice was hoarse, but that was fine, as it was the only way he could get the words out. Behind him, the two witches shrieked, but he didn't hear them, no more than he heard Harry transform into the cat on his bed, and then approach him. With a discreet motion of her wand, McGonagall murmured an incantation, and Severus' black pyjamas changed into wizard's robes once again. He didn't appear to notice that either…

"Severus, my boy," Dumbledore murmured, his tone both soothing and slightly plaintive. Nothing could temper the Potions master's fury just then.

"No." Snape's voice shook this time, but there was something final in it that made the gathering freeze. "After all these years, Albus? I didn't deserve that. No, I didn't deserve it."

Without looking away, Severus took a step backward.

"Severus…."

"Don't come near me ever again…" The black eyes shifted for an instant to rest on the cat watching him in fascination. Snape seemed about to add something, then changed his mind. "Goodbye, Albus."

Turning on heel, the Potions master strode purposefully toward the sitting room and the fireplace, his robes swirling furiously behind him.

Stunned immobile for a moment by the drama that'd played out before him, it took Shadow an instant to realize…Snape was leaving. And if what he'd just said was to be believed, permanently. In a second, the professor would step into the fireplace and disappear from sight, snatched away by the green flames.

Shadow glanced quickly around him. Poppy Pomfrey, mouth hanging open, watched her patient go, unable to hold him back. McGonagall, who seemed to have aged twenty years, was observing the cat and the Potions master similarly, seeming to assess the situation. As for Dumbledore, he'd fastened those ever kindly eyes on the cat, swimming with a healthy dose of sadness right now. Not speaking, he slightly inclined his chin toward Shadow.

But it was unnecessary. Without waiting, the cat had jumped in the Man In Black's direction and landed on his shoulder, just as he threw the handful of powder into the fireplace.

Snape didn't startle, and didn't spare the slightest look behind him as he announced, "Snape Manor." He was swallowed up by the fireplace, leaving Hogwarts and the three powerless people behind him.

Shadow, though, couldn't help but turn to look, and what he saw on their faces made him think that Severus had been wrong. For once in his life, Severus should've looked back.

* * *

A big thank to Raewhit who once again translated a chapter in record time! It was a bit different than the others, I rembmer it was hard to write in first place... I hope you liked it though!

There will be a lot more background about Severus' family in the future, but I think that this insight view was necessary for the understanding of the character. As always in fanfic we are a bit AU, especially here as a few things didn't happen as in canon. If you remember, Lily and Snape were ine a relationship, though very platonic, for some time. There will be more about this too, though it's not even written in French!

I don't know if I already said that in the English version comments, but if Shadow is meant to end one day ( thanks god!), I have material for 2 sequels. I don't know yet if I will writte them, though it would be very incompete here if I didn"t, and this story is far from finished yet. But there is a lot more to say about a lot of things. It's hard sometimes not to spoile people because I want so much to talk about it!

anyway, if you wonder about how long Shadow is going to be, I don't know yet, but the end is 'written', at least the script, and I know how it will end. In tears and blood. Kind of ;-) . The point is... to come to this point, actually. Oh well, enough ranting! If you want to chat about it, you've got my LJ adress in my profile ;-)

Thanks to all reviewers! And for encouraging me with my diet ( lost 3 kg already ) ! I hope I'll be able to say the same in 2 weeks ;-)


	35. Chapter 35 Where Your Heart Lies

**Chapter Thirty-five: Where Your Heart Lies**

In the space of a second, Shadow tried to engrave the scene in front of him in his memory: the pained and resigned face of Dumbledore, who suddenly appeared ten years older; the anxious, guilty one of McGonagall, who seemed to hesitate from holding the Potions master back; and Poppy Pomfrey, both indignant and despairing as she watched her patient go. All three of them seemed so sad and lost that Harry would've liked to be able to comfort them…but he didn't have the chance. An instant afterward, the flash of green flames blurred his vision, and the familiar décor of the Manor laboratory replaced that of Hogwarts.

He'd not thought to be back here so soon, but it felt good, he thought, like coming home. If the circumstances of their return had been less dramatic, he would've been perfectly happy.

What was unusual, though, was the way Snape stumbled on the dungeon floor, almost making his passenger fall from his shoulder. The cat jumped carefully to the ground; Floo powder usually deposited him rather abruptly, but Severus? It was truly the first time he'd seen the wizard make such an undignified entry.

His features taut, Snape got himself to rights and rapidly lifted a shaky hand toward the fireplace, flicking his wand in a series of gestures that Harry didn't recognize, but of which he quickly guessed the significance: the Potions master was readjusting the Floo wards so no one could enter the Manor—Dumbledore first and foremost, probably. That didn't bode well. This time, Snape was truly furious, and exhausted, Harry noted, watching the professor stagger forward and fall heavily into his armchair. His breathing raspy, his head thrown back, the professor seemed to be having a hard time regaining his dignity and composure. Obviously, the spectacular exit from Hogwarts, and his little performance, had depleted his strength. It was probably only the rage consuming him that had enabled him to get this far.

Shadow worriedly padded closer. Was this the time to comfort the Man In Black? Or was…. Severus' haunted eyes settled on him, piercing without seeming to see him. Unable to resist any longer, Harry transformed.

"Professor? Are you all right?"

A groan answered him, Snape grabbing his head in his hands, as if seized by a violent headache. This was a bad dream…he'd not really awakened.

Shadow. Harry. Potter. He'd followed him, of course. Shadow. Harry. Always there when there was trouble, always ready to throw himself headfirst into the fray. And Snape hadn't been able to stop him. He'd not been able to stop anything, once again. And now here he was in front of him, asking him….

"Potter!" he hissed, before the boy's wounded expression made Snape catch himself. "Harry. It always has to be you, doesn't it?"

He watched the boy give a start, clearly not knowing what to expect. Snape went on, unable to extract the venom from his words. In spite of their recent complicity, the episode with the Pensieve still remained fresh and painful between them….but he couldn't do anything about that, nor about the rage boiling inside him at that moment.

"Always in the wrong place at the wrong time," he ground out. "And preferably in my memories. Is there a rational reason for that, Mister Potter?"

"It wasn't what I wanted," the boy protested. "I went to get you out of there; you weren't waking up. Voldemort…"

"I'm perfectly aware of the Dark Lord's role in that affair, thank you," Snape said dryly. "And might I know what possessed you to defy him again? You really believe you're more powerful than he is, don't you?"

Harry flinched at the attack. That tone of voice, those words. It was Professor Snape again. Surely they couldn't have regressed so far?

"But I am, I mean, for now. You said it yourself: he's been weakened, I took his powers!"

"Stronger powers mean nothing as long as you don't know how to use them!" Severus bellowed. "Do you have the slightest idea of what Voldemort is prepared to do, of the dark magic he's ready to use without the slightest of scruples to achieve his ends? He's not even truly alive! What do you think he has to lose? After what he's done to you, how can you still pretend that all this is nothing but an amusing joke?"

"I don't think that!" Harry quickly protested. "I didn't do it to amuse myself; I've never done it to amuse myself! I just wanted to help you. Dumbledore agreed it was the only solution."

"Dumbledore," Snape growled, "who else? The person without whom none of this would've happened. The one who sent a twelve-year-old to fight a basilisk in the bowels of Hogwarts. A lovely recommendation. I'd really like to know how I'm supposed to protect you when that old fool insists on throwing you repeatedly into the lion's den!"

"It was to help you! I didn't want…" Harry hesitated. How was he supposed to say this?

"To violate my private life?" Severus suggested acerbically. "Loot through my memories one more time?"

"It was to save you," Harry repeated, dismayed by the turn the conversation had taken. He'd not expected for Severus to be happy that he'd been there for those scenes pulled form the quagmire of his memory, but for him to be so furious…. "When I slept next to you in my cat form, I dreamt of that place, of the storm, of you," he explained. The look Snape shot him at these words chilled him to the bone, but he went on.

"It worked the first time. I was able to push the wind away, I mean, Voldemort. So I thought if I really tried, I could get you out of there. I didn't know it was…your memories."

This time, Harry couldn't help looking down at the floor. He could sense the waves of anger coming off of Snape, just a few feet away.

"And at no time did you think of doing an about-face, did you?" he asked gravely.

"I…no," Harry answered. "I wanted to finish what I'd come for. I couldn't leave you, but I didn't know how to do it; it was only after a while that the memories started to follow…um…my thoughts." Seen that way, he was forced to realize that the situation wasn't good. At least not from the point of view of someone as protective of his private life as Severus.

"It seems to me that you made a promise, Mister Potter," Snape began again. "A promise concerning precisely this sort of intrusion into my thoughts."

"Professor, I'm really sorry, but I didn't have a choice!"

"No choice!" Severus burst out again. "No choice about deliberately putting yourself in danger, of intentionally entering my memory, of once again confronting the Dark Lord without any protection?"

The professor leapt from his armchair, coming to seize the boy by the shoulders and shaking him violently. "You must not put yourself in danger that way, is that clear? What must I do to get this notion through your thick skull? You're just a child who doesn't control his powers, and who hasn't the least idea of what he's facing! You're continually rushing headlong into situations, one more catastrophic than the other, before thinking for a single instant!"

"But I did think!" Harry protested, trying to escape from the professor's grasp. "I knew what I was doing; I had to do it, I couldn't leave you! And I wasn't alone—Dumbledore, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were there!"

"You're reckless!" Snape roared. "Did you have the slightest idea of how you were going to go about it? Of how you were going to escape if things turned out badly?"

"I…no," the boy admitted, a bit ashamed now. "I just wanted to bring you back."

Harry seemed so pitiful at that instant, his eyes so pleading, that Snape felt his rage evaporate, leaving him again without enough strength to support himself. Mustering all the dignity he could find, he fell into his chair again. Merlin, he was so tired…but the boy…he didn't want to think about him now.

"Go away, Harry. Leave me."

The young man looked at him in defeat. No, he couldn't ask him to do that, not now. He wanted to stay with him, the Man In Black, and make sure he'd be all right. All around Harry, the laboratory started to spin. The Manor. He'd almost got to the point where he considered it his home, really, but he'd always known that he'd end up pushing Severus too far, that the Potions master would finally realize that Harry didn't deserve to stay here and would send him away. He looked up gloomily at the fireplace, which now seemed to embody a sinister condemnation. Once he left, he surely could never come back again…

But before he could take a step, the professor's worn-out voice spoke again.

"Go up to your room, or rather go make yourself something to eat; you must've missed at least one meal. Do what you want, Harry, but leave for now. I need to be alone."

Relief spread through the boy. He wasn't being exiled. Severus just wanted a bit of peace to recover and rest. Harry wasn't happy about that, but he could understand it. If only he could've made the Potions master understand…

"Professor, I'm sorry for… Well, I didn't want to intrude on your memories, I was just trying to find a way to stop Voldemort from holding you prisoner. I'm sorry for…" He gave a vague wave of his hand.

"Harry, we'll talk about it later," Severus said, clearly at the end of his strength. "Do what I ask. For Merlin's sake, do what I ask for once!"

Resigned, Harry gave in and headed for the stairway. He gently closed the heavy wooden door behind him, and shuffled along to the kitchen. He was barely hungry, but for lack of anything else, making something to eat occupied his mind. He didn't know what would happen, once Severus had time to think. Everything had happened so quickly—his decision to follow the professor had been simple, and now Snape himself didn't seem to want him here. Maybe if he stayed in his cat form?

He sighed. Thinking of Shadow had made him want fish.

***

The Potions master listened as the boy's footsteps faded. Harry. Merlin, what was he going to do with him? The boy had once again pulled Severus out of the Dark Lord's clutches, and in so doing, had risked his life. He'd literally gone to hell and back to come and look for him. And at this moment, the boy's loyalty terrified him.

Whatever he imagined, whatever he anticipated, reality always managed to prove that he'd not foreseen the worst. Harry had gambled his life and soul to save him, while it was Severus, his professor and mentor, who was supposed to be taking care of him. He'd been wrong—he wasn't a buffer between the boy and the Dark Lord. On the contrary, he was just another danger, a target. He should've never let Harry become attached to him. It'd been absurd, and a grave strategic error from the start.

But so far as the boy was concerned, his judgment had been severely affected…and strategy had fallen by the wayside. He'd been wrong. He had to distance himself from Harry. He had to stop this adoption. He could only cause him more trouble than he already had. It was so obvious that he should've seen it immediately…if he'd not been blinded by his own sentimentality.

Not to mention what the boy had seen… Merlin. Severus felt himself go pale at the thought of those scenes that'd played out in his memory, and which the boy had witnessed. His worst memories, his bad choices, his dreariest moments…the horrors taken straight from the darkest hours of his life, ones he truly hoped Harry would never experience. Eileen and Tobias. It was pitiable, and Severus refused to be pitied. But there was worse, much worse, like the brutal acts he'd committed in the Dark Lord's name, that day when he'd willingly taken the Mark, agreed to kill and torture for the very same person that Harry was now fighting.

How could the boy still tolerate his presence? To want to save him, and follow him back here to this cursed Manor? How could he still respect him, and how could Severus still look him in the face? The scene Harry'd witnessed in the Pensieve had been humiliating…but compared to all that he'd just seen? He ground his teeth. He wasn't certain he could bear seeing Harry's scorn, or worse, the pity in the boy's eyes. Seeing it in Lily's eyes had been enough to wound him endurably.

That wasn't what he'd read in Harry's eyes a few minutes beforehand, surprisingly, but perhaps it was still a bit too soon. Merlin, it hadn't even been ten minutes since they'd left that hell. Tomorrow, the boy would've had time to think about all he'd seen, and probably wouldn't even want to speak to him.

Once again, everything had been ruined. And once again, by Dumbledore. A burst of hatred knotted his throat. He'd always respected the old man, even after Lily's death, even though he'd disapproved of the way he encouraged the younger Potter to put himself in dangerous situations. He knew what he owed Albus. But for now, he couldn't bear even the simple thought of the old wizard and his machinations. Always so sure he was right…of knowing what was best for everyone. No, Albus wasn't all-knowing, and it was time he learnt that. He'd left his life in the old man's hands for long enough. Now, he wasn't alone anymore, and he had to think of…

Harry. Severus had promised. And he truly wanted the boy in his life. But it was too late. And he was tired, so tired. Difficult and painful thoughts jumbled together inside his head, and he couldn't find any logical solution.

No, for the time being, the only solution was a potion. A Dreamless Sleep Draught, the strongest dose he could tolerate, and a long rest, away from his two masters.

With unbearable slowness, he got up from his chair and took his turn at the steps. In the distance, he could hear Harry moving about the kitchen. His heart constricted. Soon, the Manor would be quiet again, and the room opposite his own would be empty once more.

Like himself.

Refusing to indulge his sentimentality any further, he closed the door to his room behind him and stretched out on the bed like he'd always done, wand in hand. Then, erecting his mental shields, he grabbed the phial on the bedside table and swallowed its contents.

Before his head touched the pillow, the Potions master had fallen into a dreamless sleep.

***

A few dozen feet away, Harry bustled around the stove, his mind elsewhere. Severus had gone up to his room and hadn't come to see him. He hadn't expected him to, of course, but he couldn't stop his stomach from twisting up in spite of himself.

And if Snape changed his mind? If he thought Harry'd gone too far in witnessing all those memories, if he decided to take back his promise to be there for him, to let him come to the Manor, to be something that resembled a family?

A family. But in a way, he had one in Remus. So why was he despairing at the idea of being rejected by the Potions master? Because it wasn't fair, bloody hell, this wasn't the way things were supposed to be. There'd been a time when finding out he was Remus' son, the son of anyone alive, would've made him mad with joy, but things were different now. Severus understood it. And for good reason, he thought, thinking about what he'd seen in the professor's memories. Snape knew what it was like to be rejected by one's family too; he knew what it was like to only be able to count on oneself.

For all his calmness and gentleness, Remus was nothing like himself. What had Harry got from him? His stubbornness, perhaps. The werewolf had surely had to prove how patient he was, seeking the acceptance of others all his life. What else? He didn't look like him at all physically, Harry thought idly. He was the spitting image of James Potter—everyone had told him this. A spell, maybe, that his mother had cast?

Yes, Remuse was brave. And kind. And loyal. But in spite of all that, Harry didn't see himself in the man, and even less, accept this new connection. It all struck him as so…false.

Severus, on the other hand. Despite their years of animosity, there was something natural about finding himself at the austere Potions professor's side. Besides, that was what Lily had thought; his mother had led him to Severus, not Remus!

He sighed heavily. He had to talk to Snape about it as soon as possible. If Snape wanted to. Oh Merlin…and if he didn't know about Remus? And if he decided that Harry had to go with his father, if Severus decided not to have any more to do with him because of this? And if….

A sizzling sound and a burning odor pulled him from his thoughts, his heart racing. The meal had just burnt…as usual. What had Snape said before? Ah, yes, do it more gently. No, today he'd prefer cooking the Muggle way, and too bad if it took longer. Afterward, he'd get some sleep as well; he truly needed it.

But no, he couldn't sleep now; he'd have nightmares. And he didn't want Severus to wake up. But whom to talk to? He could only think of one person, really, even if he doubted it was a good idea. Despite recent events, though, he had to admit that Dumbledore had always been a source of advice and comfort in the past. He'd supported him, even against Snape, even when he'd been wrong. And with his indulgent, grandfatherly demeanor, he'd been one of the first people on whom Harry could depend…and he appreciated Severus; he'd know what to think of the situation. He'd tell him if the professor needed his help. Obviously, Snape wasn't in the frame of mind to listen to him this evening.

All that was left was to hope he was available. Snape had gone up to his room, so the laboratory was free, and the Floo powder as well…

Taking the pan from the fire, he fixed himself a plate, and left the rest under a warming spell. A few seconds later, he'd gulped down his portion and then strode purposefully toward the basement of the house. He passed Snape's doors on tiptoes. He didn't like having to hide himself, but Snape would be furious if he learnt what Harry was getting ready to do.

The door didn't' even creak behind him, and he found himself in front of the large stone fireplace, feeling slightly guilty and disappointed that Snape hadn't come after him. Seizing a handful of Floo powder, he threw it into the grate. "Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts."

The green flames flared intensely, and he pushed his upper body into the fireplace, uncertain of what he was going to find.

"Harry!" The relief was clear in the Headmaster's voice, and Harry relaxed slightly. "I didn't expect to see you so soon, my boy."

"Don't call me that," Harry grumbled, before regretting his irritation right away. This wasn't a good way to start. "Listen, I didn't come to argue with you, and I'm not coming back either, not for now."

"Ah, I must say I expected that," Dumbledore began with a trace of bitterness. "I'm happy you called, Harry. It's important that we talk."

"About what?" the boy asked distrustfully.

"Harry, I don't think you've forgotten what happened in Ollivander's shop, nor during the Minister's visit?"

Harry made a face; how could he have forgotten? "I thought that was sorted out for now."

"For now, yes," Dumbledore agreed. "But you no doubt recall the condition the Minister set?"

"That I stay at Hogwarts," Harry murmured. "But I can't, Professor, not now. I can't leave him by himself."

Even if Severus had asked for _precisely_ that….

"I understand you're in a difficult position, but it will become even more so if you don't return," the Headmaster said. "And for Professor Snape as well."

Harry felt himself growing angry. It was blackmail, pure and simple blackmail!

"Leave Severus out of this! It's your fault to begin with; I don't know what you did to him with that spell, but nothing would've happened without that!"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm fear you are right, truly. But even so, that doesn't change anything. Professor Snape risks being accused of kidnapping if the Ministry learns you're outside of Hogwarts' boundaries."

"And the paper certifying that I belong to him?"

"It was a deception, Harry. Nothing that could stand, if you disappeared."

He knew it, of course. But he couldn't face that, not now. "He needs me. I won't let him down like you did," Harry said resolutely.

This time, he was sure he saw a gleam of pain flash through the blue eyes. The Headmaster was definitely becoming curiously emotional these days.

"Is that what Severus thinks?" he asked casually.

"He thinks you've betrayed him, and I agree with him," Harry shot back.

"And yet it seems to me that you understand the reasons compelling me to—"

"I'm not talking about the spell," Harry interrupted, irritated. "That was disloyal. And stupid." He stopped for an instant, abruptly aware that he was speaking to the Headmaster. But it was too late to stop now, and really, he didn't want to. "I saw his memories. Voldemort had him…I don't know, imprisoned in his mind and was making him relive his worst memories. And you were there," he said accusingly. "You weren't the worst, but you were there."

"I confess I was very wrong about Professor Snape," he admitted calmly. "But Harry, as you yourself have just said, you saw his worst memories. Severus and I have a long history that transcends the bad moments you might've seen."

"…and he's not entirely blameless either, I know," Harry added. "But all the same, you betrayed his trust, and I won't make the same mistake. I want…" He stopped. He wanted to be able to stay, and for Snape to keep him with him, but he hadn't come to talk about that. "By the way, don't try to come to the Manor. Severus changed the fireplace wards. You won't get through."

"That's bothersome, to say the least," Dumbledore murmured. "I suppose he's furious with me at this point in time."

"Well, at this point in time, I think he's sleeping like a rock," Harry replied, "but yes, he's furious with you. Oh, and with me as well."

"May I ask what happened after you fell asleep? Clearly, your mission was a success."

"Oh, I managed to find him," Harry began, shuddering at the memory of it. "It _was_ Voldemort. I don't know how he did that, but he was controlling Severus' mind and making him relive his worst moments, plenty of things about the Death Eaters and Voldmort himself. It was horrible—both the memories and Tom being there; he didn't want to let Snape go, and he wanted to make him pay…"

"The Mark," Dumbledore agreed. "Even if Voldemort is weak at the moment, it's none the less active. I suspect my spell destabilized Severus and allowed his former master to take control of his dreams. What I don't know, though, is how you were able to get him out alive?"

"I don't really know," Harry confessed. "After a while, the memories ended up, er, obeying me in a way. They followed my thoughts. And I was able to lead him out of the visions, and after that…" He stopped. "It's still a bit confusing."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I assume Severus is very tired, despite his eventful sleep?"

"I think so," Harry replied. "He was having trouble standing up. He went to bed straight away. And he seemed…at the end of his rope."

"Harry," the Headmaster went on worriedly, "you mustn't feel hurt by what Severus might've said after you returned; it's clear Professor Snape was in shock, after what'd just happened, and beside himself. He certainly wasn't thinking of what he was saying."

"How do you know what he might've said?" Harry retorted, half-annoyed, half-reassured.

"Oh, let's just say I know Severus well, and the two of you have many things in common," Dumbledore said with a smile.

Harry felt himself flush. He himself had just spent the last several minutes practically shouting at the Headmaster.

"I'm sorry," he offered, "I didn't want to be so hostile. You're right, Severus was a bit…Snape. But he didn't shout for long; he said we'd talk tomorrow, but he'll be rested by then, I think."

"A wise decision," Dumbledore said, clearly satisfied. "And you, Harry, how do you feel, after all this upheaval?"

His voice was gentle and worried, and Harry relaxed a bit more. He'd done the right thing, coming to talk to the Headmaster. "A bit stunned, I suppose," he answered. "Everything was so quick, and all those nightmares sent by Voldemort..."

"Yes, indeed, I gather that visiting Severus' memories mustn't have been a picnic," Dumbledore agreed. "Maybe you should get some rest as well, if you think you'll be all right at the Manor? Of course, you're free to return to Hogwarts at any time."

"I didn't want to sleep before talking…to you," Harry said.

The Headmaster nodded gently, his eyes softening. "Is there something in particular you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes…maybe…I don't know…" He took a deep breath. "It's about Remus."

There was movement in a corner of the room, and Harry narrowed his eyes to better see. From his spot in the fireplace, the view was limited, and he'd not tried to see any farther. But contrary to what he'd thought, it seemed that Dumbledore wasn't alone in his office. A calm, familiar voice spoke.

"Perhaps it'd be best if I leave you…unless you want to talk to me, Harry?"

He'd opened his mouth to reply, when he heard the creak of the door to the office; he instinctively threw himself backward until he heard McGonagall's familiar voice.

"Albus, do you have…" The witch stopped short when she noticed Harry's face in the flames. "Mr. Potter! You've come just in time. Would you be so kind as to take this to Professor Snape? It seems Poppy Pomfrey wasn't able to get through to you at the Manor."

"The fireplace wards have been changed," Harry told her as he took the potions that McGonagall held out to him. "I'm not sure, but I don't think anyone can get in anymore."

The witch frowned, seeming both worried and annoyed. "Harry…how is Severus?" she asked.

"He's resting. It's hard to say just now. But I'm sure the potions will help. Thanks, Professor."

McGonagall waved his thanks away with a hand. "It's not rational," she murmured. "I can't say I don't understand, but…Harry, could you ask him to fix the fireplace so it will let me pass through?"

Harry let out a little gasp of surprise. "I don't know, Professor. I'm not certain Severus will listen to me, and without meaning to offend you…" He made a slight face. "I don't know if he'd be very happy to see you. Pardon me, but I have the impression you're not his favorite person at Hogwarts."

"Appearances are sometimes deceiving, young man," McGonagall said sternly, before throwing a quick glance of apology at Dumbledore. "Severus knows I'm not always inclined to be of the same mind as the Headmaster, nor follow his instructions. Or at the very least, I like to think he'd remember that…and I want him to know that I in no way approve of what Albus did."

Her stiff, dignified manner contrasted with the emotion Harry read on her face. She turned to the Headmaster again. "It was entirely Slytherin, Albus," she said reproachfully.

"Ah, well," Dumbledore replied contritely, obviously sensitive to the remonstration, "I would hope that Severus will be able to appreciate this trick for what it was worth, and will forgive my audacity, but things turned out much more dramatically than I'd anticipated, obviously."

"Be that as it may," McGonagall continued, "Professor Snape has my word as a Gryffindor that I'll not try anything like that. I'd simply like to be able to speak with him."

"I'll talk to him about it," Harry said. "But I can't promise anything. Thanks for the potions, Professor, and thank Madam Pomfrey for me."

"Harry, is everything all right?" the Head of Gryffindor asked gently.

"I think so…" he answered. "The worst is over, isn't it?"

But he could read the doubt over his declaration in the eyes of the witch and wizard present.

"Professor," he said to Dumbledore, "I'll let you know tomorrow what I've decided. You think that'll be all right?"

"I doubt you'll change your mind anyway, if I'm not mistaken?" the Headmaster asked, his eyes sparkling.

Harry smiled and shook his head.

"Until tomorrow, then. And don't hesitate to come and talk with me if you need anything."

"I will," the boy assured him. "Thanks, Professor. And you too, Remus, and you, Professor," he said to McGonagall.

"Off you go, Harry," the witch said. "And take care of your new master."

As Harry pulled back through the flames again, he could've sworn that McGonagall had just winked at him.

The laboratory was still darkened, illuminated only by a few torches. With no potions on the fire, everything seemed so quiet. The embers in the fireplace were giving off a soft warmth, and before Harry could think, he found himself comfortably settled in his armchair, rolled in a ball in his cat form.

He most likely should've gone up to sleep in his room, but he had neither the desire nor the courage. Tonight, he just wanted to be a carefree cat in front of his fire, and not think of anything but how happy he felt to be at home, the Man In Black sleeping not far off.

And despite his long and difficult day, Shadow fell asleep purring.

***

Severus awakened with a vague feeling of having been trampled by a horde of Hippogriffs. His body seemed all at once numb, achy, stiff, and strangely rested. How long could he have slept? A quick _Tempus_ informed him that more than twelve hours had gone by since he'd taken the Dreamless Sleep Draught. A record. Which explained why he'd probably dreamt toward the end, and why he felt more rested than he had since… Oh, since a very long time, anyway. Evidently, those twelve hours had extended the two days his body had been at rest, though not his mind.

He groaned as he sat up. Merlin, had he dreamt all of that, or had it actually happened? His befuddled mind seemed unwilling to get going this morning.

No, he hadn't been dreaming, he decided, he'd truly been locked away in his memory by the Dark Lord; he'd really been rescued by Harry, and the boy had well and truly been there for that parade of horrors.

Closing his eyes, Severus put his head in his hands. But why the devil was it so heavy this morning? He needed all his wits to decide his course of action. Whether to keep Harry, swear to him that he'd changed, that his loyalty was unwavering…or push him away to make him understand that he wasn't safe with him, and that he'd watch over him from a distance, and that it all had been a grave mistake…

But he couldn't. Harry… He needed him. And he'd promised he'd be there, just the night before even, in that dream. He'd agreed to let the boy into his life, and had accepted assuming that responsibility. To pay attention to him.

It was probably the first time in his life that he was persuaded he'd made the right choice, the necessary one. All that was left was to figure out how to carry it out…the Dark Lord surely wasn't going to stop here. The attack of the other night had been directed against him and him alone, but Harry had succeeded in putting himself in danger despite everything. What would happen when Voldemort regained his strength and recovered his powers?

His hand automatically went to his forearm. The Mark was curiously quiet today. After what'd happened, he'd expected a resurgence of pain. His features tensed in anticipation, Severus pulled up his sleeve. He'd never been able to bear the sight of this scar, not since Lily's death, in any case. The scar, the blatant proof of his culpability, so immutable and distinct…

Distinct?

No, not today. Severus felt his breath hitch at the shock. The scar he knew by heart, the one that'd ruled his life for so many years, had just suddenly changed in appearance. The Mark of the skull and snake were still visible, in reality, if one knew that it'd been there before. But it was deformed now, twisting the flesh with a vague imprint… vague for now, he thought, but he could see another symbol in the design that was just as recognizable.

The room began to spin around him. No, it wasn't possible… He couldn't have… Thoughts flashed through his head with the speed of a Golden Snitch, bouncing back and forth against each other. Yes, there was one possibility, one of the only ones he thought plausible, which would mean both heaven and hell. Freedom and condemnation.

Which could change everything.

He got up, staggering slightly, then slowly, almost fearfully, he traced the deformed Mark on his forearm with his fingertips. If he were right…. But how to be sure of it? He could think of only one person who could tell him, and it was unthinkable to go and nicely knock on the Dark Lord's door to ask his opinion.

But on reflection, it was never to his master that he'd gone to ask advice, not that one, anyway. Dumbledore. He had to talk to him. He alone would know what to make of this new turn of events.

He clenched his jaw. It'd not been twenty-four hours since he'd slammed the door in the Headmaster's face, and already he was running back to him, like a frightened child. Well, to hell with his pride—this was too important.

Deciding that washing could wait, Snape used a few freshening charms, then hurriedly changed his clothes.

Merlin, he could feel the strain on his magic, just from performing these spells. He shook his head, a knot in his stomach. Useless to cry over spilt milk. And this morning, he had other fish to try.

Speaking of the cat….

Closing his door behind him, Severus knocked lightly at the door to Harry's room. No answer. Obviously the boy was already up, which given the hour wasn't surprising. With a quicker step, he headed for the kitchen. Merlin, for someone who was never hungry, he dearly would've loved a hearty and nourishing breakfast this morning; he would've even loved one of Hagrid's infamous cakes, to be honest. But Harry wasn't in the kitchen either. True to his word, the boy had left a meal for him on the table, though. Snape went nearer, suspicious.

This couldn't be what he thought it was, though? But the aroma of a dinner kept warm for him confirmed it. Tuna. Harry had cooked tuna. It was totally…Shadowesque.

Seized by sudden intuition, Snape took off for the laboratory, vaguely nervous at the idea of facing the boy. His fears were in unfounded, though; it was indeed a black cat he found, curled up and sound asleep in the armchair.

The Potions master went closer, a slight smile on his face, and ruffled the animal's fur with his fingertips. Were all cats this irresistible when they slept, or only his own? Shadow lifted his head and blinked at him with blurry eyes. Severus allowed himself to gently pet the cat's head, giving him time to gather his wits…which he quickly did, rubbing against his Man In Black's sleeve as he purred.

Severus hadn't premeditated the gesture he made then; he didn't know if it was gratitude, the impulse of the moment, habit or plain tenderness that overtook him, but he carefully took the cat in his arms and held it against him, a hand burrowing into its fur.

If he were surprised, the cat didn't show it, and snuggled happily into the Potions master's black robes, closing his eyes to better breathe in the man's scent. Safety, he smelled safety…and wood smoke.

A few seconds later, Severus placed the cat on the chair, suddenly self-conscious of his burst of affection. Merlin, why was this so easy with a cat, and so complicated with humans? With a quick flick of his wand, he vanished the fur from his robes and cleared his throat as he headed for the fireplace.

"I must speak to Dumbledore," he announced. "I'll just be a moment. Stay at the Manor, don't go out; do whatever you like in the meantime."

Surprised, Shadow transformed quickly into a curious teenager.

"Dumbledore? But I thought that—"

"Harry," Snape interrupted, "save your questions for later. I promise you we'll talk, just…not now."

"Oh," the boy said, vaguely disappointed. "He'll be glad. Dumbledore, I mean. I, er, I talked to him while you were sleeping, with the Floo powder. McGonagall left these potions for you, by the way."

Severus nodded and took the potions in question. Just what he needed. He swallowed them down in a single gulp.

"You have every right to speak to whomever you wish, Harry," he said. "I'd just prefer that you avoid Death Eaters, but I don't think that'll be a problem."

Harry laughed softly. "No, probably not." He would've liked to ask the professor how he felt, but his feline intuition whispered that it probably wasn't the right time. But he didn't want Snape to disappear right away either. "When you say the Manor, you mean the entire Manor? I can go where I want?" he asked, the picture of the green room in his head.

An ironic eyebrow lifted in reply. "I'd like you avoid my room, but it doesn't seem to hold any secrets for you anymore. So, yes, go where you like. Most of the Manor is never used, but as I told you, you'll find a game room upstairs."

"No room is out of bounds, then?" Harry insisted.

Snape seemed surprised, but contented himself with a shrug. "You're at home, Harry, and no, none of the rooms are out of bounds. Anything else before I go?"

"No. Yes. You're…all right?" he couldn't stop from asking.

"As well as can be," the professor replied. "And even though I suppose my timing leaves something to be desired…thank you, Harry. It's wholly probable that no one but you could've got me out of that situation. My outburst yesterday…" He gave a vague wave of his hand. "…was no doubt inappropriate. And regrettable."

"I understand," Harry said, avoiding the professor's eyes. The subject of the scenes he'd witnessed would be back on the carpet much too soon as it was.

He heard Snape sigh beside him. "I know I'm not a pleasant person, and I have a tendency to lose my temper more than necessary. But that's something you're already familiar with, I think."

Harry stifled a little laugh. Oh, yes, he knew this part of Snape's character very well…a bit too much, even. After all those years of being the target of it, he didn't see how he could've forgotten that.

"I won't change in a day, Harry, so I apologize in advance. Certain circumstances…contribute to my having less control of myself and my words. That's changes nothing about what I think of you…and the rest."

Harry had a vague idea of what 'the rest' could mean, and he lifted his head, a slight smile on his face. Maybe Severus had difficulty keeping his anger in check, but Harry certainly had as much trouble talking about these sorts of things as he did.

"I know. Well, I think I do. Don't worry about me, it'll be fine. Just…come back, all right? I really do need to talk."

Snape nodded. "Would you like for me to bring you anything from Hogwarts? I could order a lunch from the elves; I suppose that famous Dobby knows your preferences. I saw that you gave into your instincts last evening," Severus said with a slight smile. "Is everything all right, Harry?"

The tuna. He wanted to talk about tuna. Oh, Merlin. That wasn't what he'd meant.

"You, er, you don't like fish?"

"I've nothing against it. But you didn't answer my question."

"I'm fine," Harry said as he fidgeted slightly.

"A potion, perhaps?" Severus asked with a frown. No, the boy didn't seem out of sorts.

"You remember what you said, Professor," Harry replied. "Not everything is fixed with potions."

The hesitant and wounded look the boy shot him made Snape shudder inwardly. Harry hadn't called him 'Professor' for a while now. There was something more important than he'd thought behind all of this. But he really didn't have time this morning, the slight throb beginning in his scar reminded him. Without answering, he chose a few potions from the shelves.

"Take them," he said as he held them out to Harry, who gave him an accusing look. "I know they won't sort out everything, but you'll feel better. I'll be back quickly, Harry, and I promise we'll talk as much as you like. Does anything hurt?"

The boy shook his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Do you think you could make something to eat and manage not to put yourself in danger while I'm gone?"

"And I won't piss on the carpet either… Yes, you can leave me alone for two minutes, Professor."

Snape almost answered, but at the last minute he decided not to, and contented himself with a smile. "Be good."

And with those words, he threw a handful of Floo powder and disappeared into the flames.

If the Headmaster were surprised by his appearance, he didn't let on. His face calm, he greeted him with a smile and a glance that could've passed for a look of apology. "Severus, I'm happy to see you again."

Snape grumbled, not disposed to niceties. In short order, the old man was certainly going to offer him a sherbet lemon as if nothing had happened.

"Please, sit down. Sherbet lemon?"

And voilà. Without relaxing his jaw, Severus went to take a seat in one of the Headmaster's comfortable armchairs, struggling to resist the urge to rub his arm, even though it was still painless.

"I take that as a no," Dumbledore said softly. "What can I do for you, Severus? Other than offer you my humblest apologies for what happened."

"I trusted you," Snape said dully.

"And I betrayed that trust, for your own good, at least I believed…"

"You know nothing!" Severus burst out, suddenly concerned about behaving like Harry had the tendency to do in this office. "You haven't the slightest idea… You should've talked to me, Albus, and asked me; you had no right to treat me that way!"

"I'm completely aware of that, my boy," the Headmaster answered. "But you must admit you wouldn't have listened. Your new responsibilities make you very unreasonable when it comes to your health. You'll be of no further use to Harry if you exceed your limitations."

"None of that has anything to do with what happened! You trapped me! You're really no better than _he_ is…" Severus stopped to take a deep breath. Yes, his little outburst definitely had the markings of adolescent hysteria, which hardly suited him.

"I suppose you're speaking of Voldemort," Dumbledore sighed. "Severus, what happened? I had no desire for this to turn out the way it did, I hope you know that."

"What do you think, old man? The Dark Lord controls his Death Eaters in every possible way. That Mark…" He shuddered. "It's not just used to summon the troops. I was fortunate to be a good Occlumens. I systematically protect my mind and reinforce my mental shields before I sleep. Those who don't should expect to have their dreams and their sleep inspected and controlled, or in this particular case, manipulated."

It seemed to Snape that the Headmaster paled slightly.

"Severus, I am sorry."

"If you'd given me a few minutes or seconds before subjecting me to that forced repose, I could've spared us this little melodrama and putting your precious savior in danger."

The memory of Harry's involvement made him see red all of a sudden, and all thought of restraint was forgotten. "What were you thinking, for Merlin's sake? He could've been killed!"

"Severus, these were only visions; his body was right there with us, safe and sound."

"Visions sent by the Dark Lord! He could've been trapped himself, and his mind would've been destroyed as surely as if he'd been there in person! What would you have done with his body after that? You're absolutely irresponsible!" he roared, unable to believe that Dumbledore could be so nonchalant.

"I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to him," the old wizard calmly replied.

Severus was speechless. He'd already known the Headmaster to be candid, but never naïve. At least to this degree.

"Albus, the Dark Lord was controlling my mind; I couldn't do anything for Harry; in fact, he's the one who came to save _me_! If anything had happened to him, if he'd not got the upper hand…." His throat constricted. "I couldn't have done a thing."

"And I knew as well that Harry wouldn't let Voldemort have you, and that you would listen to no one but him. I took a risk, Severus, I'm aware of that, but it was necessary."

"It wasn't," the Potions master said sharply. "You have no excuse for risking his life."

"Ah, in truth, I had one, even if it's likely that many people wouldn't be of the same mind. You understand this."

"And what was that?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"I couldn't risk losing you," Dumbledore simply said, a note of emotion in his voice.

That declaration had the immediate effect of rendering Severus speechless again. The black eyes searched the Headmaster's face for a moment, then he relaxed noticeably.

"My usefulness is not worth risking Harry's life, Albus."

"Usefulness is certainly an interesting thing," Dumbledore said, "but it's difficult to leave it at that when it's a matter of people one is fond of, isn't it?"

This time, the professor looked away. "You cannot allow yourself those sorts of sentiments, Albus. You know it better than I."

"Severus, I deeply regret having betrayed your trust. I've perhaps not always been clear about how important you—"

"For pity's sake, spare me these inanities," Snape hissed. But Dumbledore couldn't help but notice the hint of satisfaction in his voice. "We can't allow ourselves this sort of strategy, Albus. Don't put Harry's life or mental health in jeopardy again for such frivolous reasons. And while we're on the subject, that warning applies to myself as well. I'll do what you ask of me, as far as is possible, but stop treating me like a child or your personal Death Eater."

The Headmaster's eyes narrowed painfully. "That wasn't my intention, Severus…at all. You have my sincere apologies."

The Potions master nodded curtly.

"Despite everything," the Headmaster went on, "may I ask how you're feeling today?"

Snape made a face. They were down to this. This was why he'd come, of course, but impatience and anxiety jockeyed equally for position. The scar…

"I'm fine," he replied. "But…something's happened."

The Headmaster nodded understandingly. Evidently, he'd not expected the Potions professor to put in an appearance so quickly just to demand an explanation. "Nothing serious, I hope?" he asked.

"Yes. No. I'm not sure. Nothing… Oh, Merlin, this is useless," Snape grumbled, then with a rapid gesture, he bared his forearm, exposing the Mark to the Headmaster's eyes.

The little scene was perhaps worth the aggravation, Severus decided, watching Dumbledore's expression. His eyes wide and his shoulders suddenly stiff, the Headmaster seemed to be holding his breath, all his attention focused on the Mark…or what was left of it. Albus Dumbledore, surprised and speechless—this was surely a first, Snape thought idly, as the wizard bent in over his arm to see it better.

A good minute passed before the Headmaster fell back into his chair, lost in his thoughts. Severus did the same, covering the Mark again with his sleeve.

"What do you think?" he finally asked, at the end of his patience.

It took a moment for the Headmaster to answer. "It's…I'm not certain I know what to tell you, Severus. I think you have an idea on the matter yourself."

The Potions master nodded. "Harry," he simply replied.

Dumbledore nodded in assent. "That's what it seems to me as well. When did the change take place?"

"Probably while I was unconscious," Snape answered, the corners of his mouth twisting. "I noticed it when I awakened this morning."

"Have you felt a difference?"

"It's not painful anymore," he said simply.

"Severus, it…it seems quite impossible, but given the circumstances, I don't see any other explanation," the Headmaster said gently.

"But how is this possible?" the Potions master asked nervously. "Do you think the same thing happened to all the Death Eaters?"

"No, certainly not," Dumbledore answered. "It's a matter of a change in personal allegiance. You're to my knowledge the only Death Eater whose loyalty is tied to Harry Potter."

"My loyalty has always been the same since the death of his parents, Albus; there's nothing new there, so why now?"

"I regret to have to go back to this, but could you describe for me what happened when Harry came to rescue you in your sleep? The circumstances which made our young friend able to extract you from Voldemort's influence?"

And of course, the answer in and of itself clarified everything, Severus thought. The way he'd forced his memories to answer the boy's questions—the way Harry claimed he'd done, without being aware of it. His deep-seated and irrevocable decision to follow Harry, whatever happened, to tie his destiny to the boy's. The mask that Harry wrestled from his face. And the flash of pain that'd struck him just before he regained consciousness, that abrupt rupture…

He groaned. In front of him, Dumbledore was watching him patiently and compassionately.

"You chose your own destiny, Severus. Am I mistaken?"

"No," the professor admitted, defeated. "But that doesn't explain how the transfer could've occurred. Harry has acquired a considerable amount of powers, but he still doesn't know how to control them. Do you think he could've…that he could've…" He swallowed hard. There was something truly horrible about the thought, and Harry seemed so innocent.

"No, Severus, I doubt Mr. Potter sought to enslave you," the Headmaster affirmed. "On the other hand, there's no doubt he wanted to tear you away from Voldemort, and very likely link you to himself…but in no way like your former master. I know him well enough to be certain of that."

Snape fidgeted in his seat. "It pains me to ask you this, but what do you know about this Mark? I recall that at one time you did some research to try to get to the bottom of it, am I right? What did you discover?"

Dumbledore sighed. "It's very ancient magic, and very dark. It's more powerful than the artifacts used to reduce wizards to slavery, made so by the fact that the bearer chooses to take it willingly. Its first use dates back to the days of ancient Rome. But that hardly helps us. It's a Mark of absolute power, a wizard choosing to tie his soul to that of another. It requires devotion, loyalty, and of course, denial of one's own will to the service of a more powerful person. Even the nature of this Mark—the depths of its roots are such that it cannot be dissolved, short of the death of one of the two parties."

"But the Dark Lord is not dead," Severus objected.

"No, he isn't. At least, not really. But his soul has been divided, multiple times."

"The Horcruxes," Snape murmured. "But what does that have to do with the problem at hand?"

Dumbledore gave him a long look, both tired and unyielding.

Perplexed at first, the Potions master suddenly blanched. "Albus, no…"

"It's the only possible explanation, my boy, I'm afraid."

"You knew it…" Snape breathed out. "You've always known it…"

"I've suspected it for a while, yes, and this is the confirmation of it. A part of Voldemort's soul came to reside in Harry's when he tried to kill him, when he was still but a baby. That's what allowed Harry to take control of your Mark, to break the chains binding you to your former master and attach you to himself. A soul fragment, Voldemort's powers, and the powerful connection that unites you. Not to mention, of course, your combined wills."

"But if what you say is true, that involves much more than this cursed Mark! His soul…if it's tied to the Dark Lord, he won't be able to die without taking Harry with him!"

Dumbledore slowly nodded.

"You're…you're…" Mad with rage, Snape gripped the arms of his chair so forcefully that his fingers whitened. "You're using Harry. You've protected him for the sole purpose of letting him die at the right moment. You've raised him like a pig for the slaughter!"

"No so long ago, the idea would've seemed judicious to you," the Headmaster murmured.

"How dare you!" Severus bellowed. "Lily's son! I would've never agreed for you to sacrifice him this way. I never should've listened to you…"

"Severus, calm yourself," Dumbledore said soothingly. "You're too intelligent of a man to not see there could be other alternatives. And you know me well enough to appreciate what Harry means to me." There was a note of pleading in his voice, and that detail, more than his words, quelled the better part of Snape's anger.

"I won't let him die," he said. "If that walking-dead psychopath has to stay alive because of this, so be it, but I won't let Harry be sacrificed for a cause. You can't ask that of me, Albus."

"As I told you, my boy, there will be other alternatives. I still don't know which, but I can't help but see the Mark you wear now as a sign of fate."

The Potions master shook his head perplexedly. "Do you think this affects him? Harry, I mean?"

"I think both of them are affected by this involuntary connection," Dumbledore answered. "But it doesn't change anything of what Harry is. Nor what Voldemort is, I'm afraid. It allows an exchange of visions, and powers, and this transfer of the Mark. But Harry's personality belongs only to him and him alone. His heart as well."

His head in his hands, Snape groaned. "What am I supposed to do, Albus? What can I do for him?"

"What you're already doing, my boy," the Headmaster said gently. "Be there for him. Don't leave him alone to face what he must experience and confront. "

Snape reflexively rubbed his forearm. "But this changes everything, Albus. Absolutely everything."

"No, my boy, it doesn't change the most important thing… What there is between you and Harry remains the same," Dumbledore reassured him.

"You don't understand," the professor murmured, "this Mark is much more than a sign of belonging…the one who controls it can direct its bearer in many ways, and none of them are very pleasant, believe me."

"Severus, you've only experienced this instrument in Voldemort's hands. Trust Harry not to abuse his powers, and who knows… Perhaps that could even turn to your advantage," Dumbledore said.

But the ex-Death Eater wasn't calmed by this. "Albus, this isn't a simple tattoo or a built-in Portkey! It's a Mark of slavery, and Potter is my new master!"

"It's a Mark you took willingly," the Headmaster gently pointed out, "a long time ago, I agree, but this change of master can't horrify you this much, not after what Voldemort's made you suffer. It is, it seems to me, the best key to freedom you could've dreamt of."

Shaking his head, Severus stared at Dumbledore as if he'd suddenly gone mad. "Have you forgotten the steps I was intending to take, old man? I've already told you I've come to think of Harry as my son. And I truly intended to follow this route until he no longer needed me."

"I don't see why things should change," the old wizard said. "Harry's proven how attached he is to you, and to what lengths he'll go to keep you at his side. The transfer of allegiance couldn't have occurred without his complete consent, even unconsciously."

"What did you miss in my explanation about the Mark?" Severus growled. "Harry Potter is my new master; he can freely punish me, summon me to him, try to infiltrate my mind…and that's just the start. What am I supposed to do in face of that, Albus? Tell him to sit in the corner?"

"I doubt Harry will see things that way," the Headmaster answered. "He'll probably be more horrified than you at that idea."

"He must not know," Severus said, falling back into his chair in defeat. "He'd feel even guiltier. He'll be afraid. He must not know."

"Still, it will be necessary that he does," the Headmaster sighed, "but not before you yourself have accepted the situation. I don't claim it will be simple, but I insist on believing it an excellent thing, much better than you think. However…"

"Yes?" the professor groaned.

"Perhaps it'd be best straight off to make sure we're not mistaken. I doubt the margin of error is great, but a simple spell will be enough for me to make certain. If you will?"

Once again, Snape rolled up the long black sleeve and held out his arm to the Headmaster. A slight wave of his wand, along with a murmured incantation, and Dumbledore's eyes gleamed as he nodded. "It is indeed Harry's magical signature coming from the Mark. There's no doubt."

Incapable of speaking a word, Severus nodded, before looking down again at the Mark, which, twisted and stretched, was attempting to change from the symbol of the death head into the easily recognizable one of a lightning bolt.

The die was cast. He belonged to Harry Potter. And for better or for worse, he was determined to accomplish the mission he'd dedicated himself to until the very end: whether he was his master, his cat, or his son, Harry would survive, and he'd have everything he'd not had the chance to have.

A family, freedom, and a life that was truly his own.

* * *

Once again, a big thank to Raewhit for the translation of this story! Shadow feels sooo loved ;-)

And thanks for all the wonderful reviews, you make my day! And remember, if you can read French, the French version a 10 chapters ahead, though Raewhit is quickly catching ;-)


	36. Chapter 36 A Long, Long, Time Ago

**Chapter Thirty-six: A Long, Long Time Ago**

Alone. He was alone in the Manor. And he had carte blanche to do what he felt like doing. A sly little smile crossed Harry's face, and an instant afterward, a black cat slipped soundlessly up the laboratory stairs.

No secret rooms, no forbidden places. He'd been insistent when he'd asked, so Severus couldn't find fault with him. At the worst, he'd play the naivety card, claiming he'd wanted to explore as the professor had suggested. And if the door was locked, oh well… He'd just have to open it, wouldn't he? And why not, since Snape had nothing to hide.

Spurred on by curiosity, the cat soundlessly climbed the stairs. He was getting really good at this, he thought, claws retracted and paw pads muffling the sound, agile jumps— a feline body really had advantages!

The stairway was intimidating, as was the corridor in which he found himself when got to the top. Everything here seemed so new and unused. For the hundredth time, he turned the thought over in his mind: what had Snape's intentions been in buying the manor? Everything was so vast and deserted. There were numerous doors in front of him, most of them closed.

If his calculations were correct, the green room should be off to his left. To his surprise, the first door was open, and he didn't need to change into his human form to enter.

The shutters to the room were open, letting the light stream in through the heavy green curtains. There was a dark, wooden floor and walls covered with hangings, lending the room an odd ambiance of cheerfulness. A cheerfulness that was a bit forced, perhaps. Shadow jumped nimbly onto a large billiard table that stood in the middle of the room.

The game room! This was what this was. Near the window was the chessboard that Severus had spoken of, the pawns set out in their squares as if they were waiting for players. They'd probably been waiting for a very long time. There was also a dart board, and what appeared to be expensive wooden boxes arranged carefully on the shelves, as if they were new, as well as various objects he didn't recognize.

Nothing very exciting, but the billiard table would surely be fun. He'd have to ask Severus to teach him; he'd have a better chance of winning at that game than at chess, if they ever got around to it.

And yes, Harry would've really liked for them to get around to it. The training, preparing potions—all that was fine and good, but he would've liked to share something else with the professor. Just like this, to pass the time. Together.

But before that, they'd have 'The Talk.' Shadow trembled. Yes, 'The Talk,' but before that, the exploration! He'd seen enough of this room; it was time to move on to the next one.

Reluctantly taking his human form again, Harry opened the first door on his right. A little sitting room, he noted, with a bookcase and comfortable-looking furniture. It was smaller than the impressive sitting room on the ground floor, and he made a mental note to come back to it later. It seemed pleasant and welcoming.

The second door on the left opened into what seemed to be a small storage room, so Harry went on, all of a sudden nervous. If his calculations were correct… The next doorknob turned in his hand, but the door refused to open. The boy felt his heart beat faster. This was it!

He drew his wand from his robes and leveled it at the lock, breathing out, "_Alohomora!"_

There was a little _click_. Surely it couldn't be this easy? Hesitantly, he pushed the door, which opened easily. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped forward, blinking his eyes.

The room was dark, so he headed quickly for the curtains and threw them open wide. He turned back to take in the room that was now flooded with light, and for a moment he was speechless.

The green room.

Everything here was dramatically different from the rest of the Manor. The furniture in the room was clearly very old—at least old enough to have been there for many years. Someone had lived here, and his prior suspicions were confirmed as well: this someone had been female. It was clearly a woman who'd occupied this room. All that remained was to know who…

Harry walked slowly toward the bed, which was green, like the carpet and the curtains at the windows. Using his fingertips, he touched the patchwork quilt covering the blankets. It was so…personal, so different than the chilling anonymity that dominated the rest of the Manor. And the bed wasn't even of very good quality. Simply…comfortable and homey.

Fascinated, he went on exploring. The dressing table—the one he'd seen through the window! It was a beautiful piece of furniture that didn't match the rest of the room, but the effect was rather harmonious. A brush was still lying on the table, as well as a hair-ribbon, also green. A few other items were scattered here and there. It seemed as if the room's occupant had just stepped out for a moment, that she'd return, smiling and graceful, looking for her brush. At least, that was the way Harry imagined it.

And why not? There was even a book on the bedside table. Harry went closer to read the title: _Magical Love._ He smiled. A romance, then. Had she been in love with Snape? Certainly. Otherwise, what would she have been doing here?

Like a robot, he headed for the wardrobe and opened the doors wide. The smell of perfume assaulted his senses: a slight odor, something reminiscent of the countryside and flowers. The scent was distinctive, but so sweet he wanted to bury his face in the dresses hanging there. Without knowing why, he felt his heart constrict and a vague sadness spread through him. What was he doing there, in the closet of a woman who was probably dead? The perfume had the smell of times past that made him feel like crying…and the dresses, simple and colorful, seemed to speak of happiness lost but never forgotten.

His eyes misty, he took a step backward and closed the wardrobe. Merlin, he was going mad… He should've never come in here. This simple room smelled so sad…so sad.

He should've left right away, but he was powerless to do so. Instead, he perused the books in the little bookcase, tracing their spines with his finger. Shakespeare. Milton. Romantic novels, too, and magical treatises. Potions, even. He felt the corners of his mouth lift in spite of himself. So, Severus had found a woman who loved potions as much as he did? And there on a shelf, wasn't that…? He leant in closer. Yes, it was—the little china figure of a shepherdess that he'd seen in Snape's memories, the only thing he'd taken when he'd fled his house.

Merlin, it was all so very sad! And these pictures on the walls, the pastel colors, the landscapes. He recognized Monet…and penciled sketches, photos of people he didn't know, but who had the same familiar feel as everything else in the room.

An old turntable, a stack of records placed beside them on the table. Once again, he couldn't resist, and looked over the jackets with a shaking hand. Genesis. Led Zeppelin. Neil Young. Supertramp.

Supertramp. He liked Supertramp too. The weight in his chest suddenly doubled in intensity, and the records slipped out of his hands and scattered on the desk. All right, he had to get hold of himself; this was totally stupid. This woman listened to the same groups as he did, so what? This room was emotionally touching, but it was only a matter of ambiance. He'd asked himself so many questions about this room that everything seemed somewhat exaggerated now. The woman who'd occupied this room probably wasn't even dead. Maybe she was simply a friend of Snape's who'd not come to visit him since a certain Harry Potter was taking up his time.

In any case, he shouldn't have come here, and even less, rummaged through things; it was impolite and improper. His hands were nervously straightening the records to put them back in place before he left the room once and for all, when his fingers brushed against something rough in the wood of the desk. No, not exactly rough, he thought, but hollow, in fact.

He bent over slightly to look more closely at the desk, and couldn't help but smile. Whoever the occupant of the room had been, she was very young…and very much in love. A clumsy but determined hand had carved a heart into the wood of the desk, surrounding it with sweetheart initials. Two pairs of initials, in fact. One wasn't hard to guess: S.S. for Severus Snape, but the other?

And all of a sudden, the realization struck him like a lightning bolt. His breath rapid, he fell into the chair, unable to look away from the inscription on the desk.

L. E.

It'd been so obvious, so clear from the beginning. How could he have missed it?

Lily Evans. The room was his mother's. Had been…

Merlin, it was impossible, completely impossible. Severus had said… Staggering, he went to the dressing table once again, and grabbed the brush, noticing what he'd failed to see the first time: red hair tangled in the bristles of the brush.

Green ribbons, like the bed, the color of Lily's eyes….

Her records. Her books. Her clothes. Her perfume. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd opened the wardrobe doors again, then knelt and buried his face in the closest dress, filling his lungs with a breath full of the long-forgotten perfume. Within in seconds, he felt as if he were suffocating, not certain if it was from trying to hold back his tears or because he was choked with them.

A creak in the floorboards startled him, and he was on his feet in an instant, looking desperately around the room.

"Mum?"

But the only answer was silence, the effect like a cold, drenching shower. He suddenly felt more ridiculous than ever, there, alone in the middle of the empty and oddly haunted room. But not by a ghost; no, but by memories and an unbearable nostalgia. Did Snape come here—did he immerse himself in the perfume lingering in Lily's scarves, did he thumb through her books, and listen to her records? Did he himself call out to her as well?

Unable to stay a moment longer, Harry fled, gently closing the door behind him. He'd barely taken a step into the hallway when he was overtaken by a strong urge to open the door and go back into the room again, to stretch out on that bed, to try and recapture… What? Or rather, whom? He walked away, refusing to look back. Lily was dead, dead and gone for fifteen years and nothing would bring her back—neither this place, nor Severus.

Snape.

A surge of rage swept over him and he raced down the stairs. Why had he hidden it from him? What right did he have to keep it for himself alone? All of that had belonged to his mother, and he had a right to it! Did Snape think he'd made up for this by giving him the wooden box?

Well, he was mistaken, seriously mistaken!

Oh, they were going to talk, yes, he could be sure of it.

With a heavy step, he headed for his room and fell onto the bed, torn between anger and distress. When had Lily lived here? And why? What reason did Snape have for lying to him about it? His heart heavy, he grabbed the little wooden box sitting on the bedside table next to the photo McGonagall had given him.

The sight of the photo was enough to quell his anger. He should have more trust in Severus. He surely had his reasons, and probably was thinking about talking to him about him at the opportune moment. But talk to him about what?

Harry groaned. He wanted to talk to Snape right now. Why had he needed to go see Albus so soon? He had to come back—now, now, now!

The sound of a door slamming suddenly made him jump. Was it possible? Steps rang out in the stairway, and Harry stood up, his heard pounding, wand in his hand. It could only be him, of course, so why did he suddenly feel so nervous? As if electricity was running through him… There was muffled knock at the door, and Harry tried to relax.

"Come in."

The door opened slowly and Severus appeared. "Everything all right, Harry?"

He'd not expected the question, and for a moment stood with his mouth open, unable to form an answer. This was clearly enough for Snape, who came forward and took a seat in the desk chair.

He seemed strangely tense himself, Harry noticed. Whatever had taken place in Dumbledore's office didn't seem to have pleased the professor. Or was he unhappy with Harry himself? Was Severus aware of what he'd done?

"Harry, breathe," Snape said softly.

It was only when he took a deep breath that Harry realized he'd been holding it since the professor had entered the room. Merlin, what was happening to him? This was Severus, just Severus. He watched the wizard open his mouth to speak, and before he had time to think, Harry spoke ahead of him.

"So, you sorted things out with Dumbledore?"

It was the stupidest question he'd ever asked, but at least it served to stop Snape's words.

Frowning, Snape said, "I suppose you could say that, yes."

"He really didn't want to hurt you, you know. But he's always so sure of knowing everything, and wants to take charge. I think sometimes he doesn't realize he's going too far. And he's so old…"

Harry stopped, aware that he was babbling. In front of him, Severus shot him a look that was both worried and amused.

"Everything is fine, Harry. We'll be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow, or even this evening if you like. Albus and I discussed matters, even if I'm far from appreciating his little intervention."

"That's…a good thing," Harry said, thrown off balance. So, that was all? "So, you're not angry anymore? I mean…you were rather furious last night."

His eyes drifted down to his hands crossed on his knees, unable to bear the professor's piercing gaze any longer.

Form the corner of his eye, he saw Snape shift in his chair, as if he were settling in for a long conversation. "There are many things I said last night that would've benefited from a bit of restraint on my part. But certain of them remain nonetheless true."

The boy stiffened at his words. Was Severus perhaps going to finally throw him out?

"You're a young wizard destined for an exceptional future, Harry," he went on. "And it's not only your future. What you've accomplished up until now has sufficiently set you apart from other young people your age. You are also now one of the most powerful wizards in this country, perhaps even, who knows, the most powerful. But despite all of that—all your good intentions and your bravery…"

A bristling at the back of his neck made Harry look up. Whatever Severus had to say to him, he had to look him in the face. Obviously satisfied, the professor continued.

"Despite everything people expect of you, and the prophecy weighing on your shoulders, you're a boy of sixteen, inexperienced and impulsive, who still does not control his powers. You cannot, and I insist on this point, you _cannot_ throw yourself into every dangerous situation to save the world. It's simply not realistic. There's nothing surprising about the fact that I've long thought you have a problem with your ego. I know you well enough now to realize that this is not the case, but this tendency to be negligent about your own safety must stop now."

"I…I understood well enough yesterday, Professor," Harry said. "It just seemed the right thing to do at the time. I didn't want something to happen to you."

"And I don't want anything to happen to you either, especially because of me! I'm the adult here, Harry, can you understand that?" Snape asked as calmly as he could.

"I understand, really," the boy answered, his throat tight. "It's just that… For sure I would've done that before this summer, but now… I don't want you to disappear; it's idiotic, I know, but I need that…need you. If you think you can forgive me for…you know."

"Stupid child," Snape said gently. "I've not the slightest intention of 'disappearing,' as you call it. As for forgiving you, outside of that infuriating tendency of putting your life and my sanity in danger, I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You know, what you said last night," Harry insisted, ill-at-ease. "The fact that…that I saw, well, your memories."

Snape's face froze while he tried to relax his posture. "It's hardly acceptable, is it?" he murmured. "I know that this time you weren't trying to be indiscreet, Harry. To be honest, I'm rather surprised, in hindsight, that you didn't have issues with me first."

Confused, Harry stared at him for an instant. Severus' expression gave nothing away, but the boy suspected this was a critical moment. "Issues? I don't see why."

"For having followed Voldemort, for a start. For having taken the Mark. And everything that came afterward…"

Harry shrugged. "I knew that already. You've changed, you're not on his side anymore. I'm just…sorry for you," he finished.

A heavy silence settled between, seeming to stop time. For so long, in fact, that Harry began to wonder if Snape hadn't been Stupefied. He fidgeted uncomfortably on his bed, and the movement seemed to animate the professor, who ran a hand across his face, briefly closing his black eyes.

"I suppose that pity isn't the first feeling one would wish to inspire in one's children," he said dully.

Harry stared at him, his eyes wide. Had he really just said…? But…Severus shouldn't think that, not at all, it was terribly untrue!

"No, that's not what I meant," he said quickly. "I respect you, really, you're sort of a… I mean, a great professor, and I, um…"

Oh Merlin, this wasn't starting off well. His cheeks pink, he stopped at the sight of Snape's sardonic expression and raised eyebrow.

"A great professor? I wasn't expecting such hypocrisy on your part, Mister Potter."

Harry felt himself blush even more furiously. "All right, as a professor, you're pants," he admitted without daring to look at him. "But as for the rest of it. I'm not joking, I really respect you. And not just that…it's…I wanted to talk to you about it, but, while you were sleeping all that time, something happened. Or rather, I learnt something."

Groaning, he put his head in his hands. Where to begin? He wanted to talk about Remus, but he didn't want Severus to reject him now, and he wanted to talk about the green room and Lily, but he didn't want Snape to think that he doubted him or… The pressure of a hand on his shoulder made him look up. In front of him, Severus was handing him a potions phial, his eyes soothing.

"Drink."

Which he did without protest.

"A calming potion," Snape clarified. "Do you need anything else, while we're at it? Did you eat?"

The boy nodded. "I don't need anything. It's just that…so many things happened while you were gone."

"So I've surmised," Severus replied bitterly. "I'm listening."

But oddly, the words didn't want to come out.

"You're aware, about Remus?"

Snape frowned. "More precisely?"

Harry bit his lips. "He has a son," he said.

This time, the professor let loose a long sigh. "Harry, might I know how you learnt of that?" he asked.

"Oh, I spied," the boy replied offhandedly.

Snape was silent for a moment. "Obviously. Another lesson you've yet to learn, isn't it?"

"You said it," Harry said, irritated. "It's so easy when you're a cat."

Severus shook his head, as if to sweep away the idea. "Doesn't matter. And to answer your question, yes, I'm aware of it."

Harry felt his heart about to beat out of his chest. Snape was aware. He knew that Remus was his father, and despite it all, he'd not pushed him away. Was he supposed to feel relieved, or worried?

"And…that doesn't matter to you?" he asked.

"No, I wouldn't say that," the professor replied. "It's certainly going to complicate matters. For you and Remus in particular, I assume."

"That's for sure," Harry murmured. "But that doesn't change anything about…the rest of it. I mean, I haven't changed my mind. Even if Remus is…well, technically…."

_Technically, he slept with my mother,_ Harry thought, before it struck him full-force. _Oh Merlin, he slept with my mother. _Shocked, he looked up at Snape.

"You must really hate him," Harry breathed out.

The professor made a face. "Hate is too strong a word. Actually, to be fair, just the opposite. I happened to have played a certain part in this mater of paternity. A rather unfortunate role, all things considered."

The words were out of his mouth before Harry had time to hold them back. "The green room…."

He watched Snape apprehensively, but the man only frowned. "Pardon?"

Harry repeated himself reluctantly. "The green room. There's a connection, isn't there?" It didn't make any sense, and yet… There had to be one, Harry tried to persuade himself. All the pieces had to fit together, one way or another.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Severus said. "Of which room are you speaking?"

The boy hesitated an instant. What game was Severus trying to play?

"I'm talking about the room upstairs, the room with the green curtains and bed, and the rest of it. You know very well…"

But the professor continued to stare at him perplexedly. "I don't recall one of the rooms being furnished in green, but even so, what would that have to do with this?"

"You know very well what I want to talk about," Harry said exasperatedly, the tension making him nervous. "The old room. My mother's."

This time, Snape seemed literally flabbergasted. "What…?" His eyes were suddenly confused as he stood. "Show me," he said curtly.

Not asking any further questions, Harry got up and went out of the room, Severus right behind him. What did all of this mean? Why was he acting like he didn't know what Harry was talking about? He shook his head. They'd reached the door, and Snape still had that blank look in his eyes.

"I know I shouldn't have gone in," Harry tried to apologize, "but you told me I could go wherever I wanted."

Without a word, Snape pushed open the door and went in. He stopped short in the middle of the room, and Harry reluctantly followed him. What was going on? Snape was looking around the room, seeming as surprised as Harry himself had probably seemed. But no, Severus actually looked positively shocked. He walked to the dressing table, reaching out, then pulled his hand back before he could touch it. Unable to stop himself, Harry asked his question.

"This is really my mother's room, isn't it?"

He regretted his question, though, when Snape turned to him, looking as if he were hallucinating. "It's impossible," he said, his voice choked. "I wouldn't have…."

Frantic, he stiffly turned to the bookcase. After scanning its contents rapidly with his eyes, he grabbed a row of books and threw them to the floor, clearly forgetting Harry standing behind him. An instant later, he let out a small groan and pulled an oval object from the back of the bookcase.

A Pensieve, Harry noted, more and more intrigued now. Without paying him any mind, Severus pointed his wand toward the bowl, extracting the long silver filaments and guiding them toward his temple.

A moment afterward, he sat heavily on the bed as if his legs refused to support him any longer. His face wore a mixture of fatigue and resignation as he glanced about the room once again, but with no trace of surprise this time.

"Professor?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Only then did Snape seem to recall Harry's presence, and motioned for the boy to join him on the bed, patting the coverlet. The boy sat beside him, unable to decide if he should be worried or relieved.

Silence truly took on another dimension in this room, Harry thought. Something both peaceful and oppressive. He lost track of how many minutes passed before Severus finally began to speak.

"You're right, Harry, this room was your mother's," he said distractedly. "Everything you see here belonged to her."

"I don't understand," the young man said softly. "You told me she'd never come here?"

"I don't recall having said such a thing, but it's true. Lily never set foot in the Manor. Not a single time."

"But then how…"

"This is her furniture, Harry," Snape interrupted. "Only her furniture. What she had at home, when she still lived with her parents."

"But what is it doing here?" the boy pressed.

Severus took a moment to answer, as if he were recalling that memory.

"She asked me to keep it for her. It was after her parents' deaths. Petunia was about to be married, and she needed money, so she wanted to sell the house. Lily reluctantly agreed. She didn't have anywhere to leave her things, and she asked me to keep them for her, knowing I wasn't intending to sell my parents' house right away. We were very close at the time…but not for long. In any case, she never wanted to take them again. Or more precisely, we never spoke of it again."

"Still…" Harry gestured to the room, "…everything seems so…real. Alive. Like she really lived here."

At his side, Snape groaned softly. "I suppose I was…a bit overly optimistic, bringing this furniture here. I wanted her to have what she'd left behind if she decided to…but that was stupid, of course."

_To come and live at the Manor_. That was what Severus had meant to say. Harry was sure of it. Snape had hoped, but she'd never come back. Instead, she'd married James, and, it would seem, slept with Remus. And the room had remained at Snape Manor, unchanged.

He'd been right when he'd visited the room earlier: there was something cloyingly sweet and nostalgic here that made him want to cry. He didn't, of course, but instead, he leant over to stretch out on the bed, his head in Severus' lap.

He understood, and he knew Snape understood it too. And he'd been right about something else as well: he needed him. A hand rested on his head, gently caressing his hair.

"Everything here is yours, Harry. You can do what you like with it. I would've shown it to you sooner if I'd remembered it," Severus said softly.

"How could you forget this?" Harry murmured. But of course, he already knew the answer.

"Because I wanted to forget it," Snape answered. "By putting that memory in a Pensieve—the entire memory and not just the emotion of it. After Lily's death, I spent a great deal of time in this room."

Harry could imagine it. His eyes came to rest on the old turntable. "Do you really like those groups?"

"I liked to listen to them with her," Snape replied. He smiled at the memory of it. Lily doing rock dances. Oh, they'd danced—how many afternoons and nights? "But after a while," he continued, "this room became like a poison. I preferred to completely forget its existence."

If he'd had to hear _Stairway to Heaven_ for a thousandth time, he'd have gone mad, he was sure of it. The record was scratched from having been played so much after Lily's death, and he himself had felt as worn out and damaged as the record as he listened to its notes.

"I understand," Harry murmured. "I miss her too, even if I didn't know her. I remembered what she smelled like, you know? When I opened the closet…her dresses."

Oh yes, Severus knew. It was Lily's perfume that had haunted him the most in this place. It was so hard to imagine she was gone when her scent still hung in the air.

"I didn't think I had any memory of her," Harry continued. "Besides, you know, when I hear her scream."

Severus' hand tensed on the boy's neck. "When you hear her scream?" he repeated.

"Yeah, when the Dementors are around… I hear it, the night when she was killed. It's sort of ironic that the Dementors manage to bring back the only memory I have of my mother, don't you think? Well, besides this smell now."

"Harry, I'm sorry," Snape murmured.

"Me too," the boy offered. "I didn't want to see your memories, you know, but I'm glad it happened. Because," he sat up to look in Snape's eyes, "it's much easier to understand this way. And I need to understand."

Severus nodded, both reticently and understandingly. Placing his hands on the boy's shoulders, he started to get up. "I think a good glass of Firewhisky would do me good. Maybe even two. What would you say to a butterbeer?"

Harry stood up, a big smile on his face. "Two for me as well, if that's all right with you."

An arm around the boy's shoulders, in a gesture that was becoming curiously familiar, Snape led them from the room and shut the door behind him.

_Rest in peace, Lily_, he silently prayed. _And if possible, not in this room. This Manor doesn't need anymore ghosts…_

Leaving the room and the storey behind them was a relief. The sitting room armchairs had never seemed so welcoming and comfortable, and Harry fell into one of them gratefully.

Merlin, he literally felt drained! And that fire in the grate was perfect, despite the time of year, just what he needed to purr peacefully and… Oh, this probably wasn't a good time to transform into the cat.

But then again….

With a leap, he jumped to Snape's lap and let himself slide limply against the wizard's robes. There, that was perfect, just like before when he'd just been Shadow and hadn't a care in the world.

"Dirty beast," Severus murmured, but his tone belied his words as his fingers petted the black fur.

Yes, everything seemed easier in this form, Shadow thought.

"You must stop working all the time, Shadow Snape. The world isn't about to collapse if you rest for a moment. Learn to trust adults."

Closing his eyes, the cat stretched out a paw. At that instant, it would've been so easy to agree….

"Albus was right about one thing," Snape continued. "You cannot be allowed to stay away from Hogwarts for too long just now, not with what happened with the Minister. It would be too risky. We're returning this evening."

His words completely roused Shadow, who returned to his chair to take his human form again.

"Professor, it's not necessary. I told Dumbledore I'd give him my answer tomorrow night."

"It'd be unwise to wait. If an Auror were to come to verify your presence at Hogwarts and you weren't there, your temporary guardianship could revert to the Ministry. And besides, I confess the prospect of remaining at the Manor tonight hardly inspires me."

On that point, Harry was in agreement. The discovery of the room had shaken him enough that a change in scenery was perfectly fine with him.

"It wouldn't bother you if I go back…later? To the room, I mean?" he asked.

"No, of course not. I'm not in a position to begrudge you that. On that subject, didn't we say Firewhisky and butterbeer?" Severus asked as he went for the bottles. And really, Harry decided, butterbeer was the perfect solution for an emotional day.

"Thanks, Professor," he said as he set down the bottle. "Didn't you say two butterbeers?"

Snape laughed softly as he held out the second bottle. "'Professor'? We're back to that again?"

"No!" Harry cried, surprised. "I wasn't paying attention. On the other hand…"

"Say what you have to say," Snape growled.

"Well, you've started calling him the Dark Lord again. You'd been saying Voldemort, though, recently."

Snape drummed his fingers on his glass as he thought. "Indeed, it's likely. I'll pay more attention to that in the future."

"Doesn't it bother you to say his name? You hated that before," Harry said.

"Saying the Dark Lord's name…Voldemort's, is a very bad idea when you're under his thumb. A flagrant lack of respect that's quickly punished."

"He has…he has ways of knowing those sorts of things?"

"Certainly,' Severus said bitterly.

"But that's not a problem for you since you've stopped spying, so why now?"

"Force of habit, I suppose. The man is certainly not my lord, dark or otherwise. That hated title is as underserved as it is pathetic. But that little stay in hell put certain things back into perspective, obviously."

"He's still your master in spite of everything, isn't he? Because of the Mark?" Harry asked. He saw Snape stiffen noticeably.

"It's not something you must concern yourself with. Those regrettable words on my part will not happen again. I only hope you'll reconsider using my first name."

"Sorry, Severus," Harry said with a smile. "I suppose that's force of habit as well." He finished his second bottle with a gulp. "And too, maybe I was sort of afraid you'd turn me out," he confessed quickly.

"Harry!" Snape cried, suddenly concerned. "No question of that! I know the last few days haven't been easy ones, but I can assure you…" _That I never intended to show you the door? _Not exactly true. But Harry didn't need to know that. "…that I've no intention of going back on my word. This is your home, for as long as you wish it."

"Even if my father…" The boy couldn't help but grimace. Talking about Remus wasn't going to be so easy. Merlin, all of it was going to sound so false…

"It's neither a question of your father, nor your mother, nor what others might think of our arrangement," Severus said dryly. "You are my cat, full stop. Is that clear in your head, young man?"'

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry replied with a big smile. "And you're my Man In Black."

"Oh, really?" Snape said, raising an eyebrow. The boy laughed, somewhat sheepishly.

"That's what I called you when, well, when I was just a cat. It seemed sort of appropriate."

"Indeed, wholly appropriate," Severus murmured.

"And you know, you look rather good in green. In your memories, I mean. Well, it's too bad that…that…" The professor's eyes had clouded over, and Harry felt he'd just treaded on a slippery slope.

"A second glass of Firewhisky is in order, after all," Snape said dully.

"I, um, can I have one as well?"

"At your age?" Severus asked suspiciously.

"I've already tasted it, you know. And I think it's just what I need right now."

"What you need is to end up on the floor? All right for this time," Severus said as he handed him a glass, "but this won't become a habit."

"No, not a chance," Harry muttered. "I've always hated drunks."

"Bad memories?" Snape asked.

"Yeah, right," he said reluctantly.

"Your uncle, I presume?"

"Uh-huh," the young man replied vaguely. The Dursleys had never been his favorite topic of conversation, and Vernon was definitely at the top of the list, right after articles in the _Prophet_, and the latest conquests in Draco Malfoy's love-life. But he caught Severus' eyes watching him, soberly and thoughtfully, and knew right away what he was thinking. Harry shuddered, recalling what he'd seen of the Potions master's childhood…and knowing all of that, it really wasn't fair or helpful to hold his tongue. Swallowing a mouthful of Firewhiskey, he barreled on.

"It wasn't so much that he was violent," he explained. "Well, yeah, of course, but not like…um. Anyway, he never managed to catch me when he'd been drinking. But he had this way of pounding on the walls and screaming at everyone…said some really, well…horrible things. You know, about my parents, how I was worthless, that sort of thing," he finished. "It was mostly his voice, and he seemed so enormous to me at the time. No, actually, he _was_ really enormous, but back then, it seemed like he was one of those monsters that're supposed to live in cupboards and eat children. Except I was the one living in the cupboard, and to them, I was the freak," he said with a forced little laugh.

Snape shook his head. "And a cupboard certainly wouldn't seem a great refuge from that sort of ogre."

"No, not really," Harry murmured. "But most of the time, he forgot about me when he didn't see me. It was just that Dudley…when he was afraid of his dad, he'd remind Vernon to go take care of me."

"Vernon went after his son as well?" Snape asked in surprise.

"No, of course not. But he'd bellow and break everything he touched. He broke Dudley's telly once: a terrible scene…" He made a face. "When I was small, that terrified me. It was idiotic, because he was most dangerous when he was sober." Harry shrugged. "I suppose it's not important anymore. He's dead. No need to speak badly of him."

"Death doesn't absolve everything," Severus replied. "Just because he's disappeared doesn't mean these events in your life will do the same. Your memories will just be less painful over time…but your reasons for being wary of alcohol are no less justifiable."

Harry contemplated the matter for a moment. "You know, it's rather odd to think that you're the one I trust, when it's you who's shouted at me the most since I've been at Hogwarts. Do you think I'm trying to reproduce the circumstances?"

He saw the professor wince. "I truly hope not," he said heavily. "Harry, I hope you're well aware I've no intention of hurting you, neither by my actions nor my words. It's unthinkable that I'd raise a hand to you. As for shouting…it's not something I can promise, knowing my temperament and yours, but I hope to keep that to an absolute minimum. My views on childrearing have nothing in common with those of your uncle and aunt, or my own parents, if that's what's worrying you."

"I'm not worried," Harry protested. "I know all of that. If you managed not to dissect me into pieces or throw me against a wall, back when you hated me, then I know you're not about to do it now. And you've protected me…"

"At the very least, I've tried. That won't stop me from giving you extra chores or lecturing you in my own way if it proves necessary. It's part of a parent's work, and I intend to carry that out as well. That's understood between the two of us?"

"As long as you don't demonstrate it with a belt, that's fine with me," the boy murmured.

At his words, Severus got up and went to him. "Come here," he said gently.

Without thinking, Harry pressed against him, his face buried in the black cloth. Ah, it felt good, yes…even better than when he was Shadow. And how could it feel so natural, when actually…. He couldn't recall having been comforted this way as a child.

"I'm happy he did it, you know," he said into the professor's shoulder, "otherwise I'd have never come here. And you wouldn't have…changed your mind."

"Stupid child," the professor murmured. "I'm also glad how this tragic story's turned out, but as for what that Muggle made you suffer… I'll never be sorry enough for not having taken care of him when I still had the chance."

"Not me," Harry replied. "I like that you had nothing to do with that. The Ministry might not have agreed for me to stay with you, if you had. And then, I don't want to be responsible for even more deaths. That's why he didn't want me to stay anymore, you know. Because of Marge."

At these words, Snape took the teenager by the shoulders and pushed him gently backward to look him in the eyes. "You realize you had nothing to do with that, don't you?"

"I…I suppose."

"Harry."

"I don't know, it's possible, you know, I hated her. There're always things that I…that I can't control, like Shadow."

"That's absurd," Severus said softly. "That woman had an automobile accident. Your uncle just needed an outlet for his anger, as unlikely as it was."

"He hadn't been drinking, that night," Harry pointed out. "Usually, he only said those sorts of things when he was pissed."

"Was he drunk when he made you believe your parents had died in a car crash, that you were abnormal, and all that other nonsense he put into your head?"

"No, but it made sense, you know…from their point of view. It was just when he drank…oh well, he said lots of hurtful things, but when he got angry and hadn't been drinking…that was even worse. And if he disciplined me, it was for things that'd really happened. Well, most of the time. I know it wasn't fair; there wasn't anything I could do about it, but for him, it made sense. So, Marge…"

"Marge's death was due to an ordinary road accident, Harry," Snape said. "Dumbledore assured me of that. It was neither Voldemort's doing, nor your own. Just an accident."

"It was…really?"

The relief was clear in the boy's eyes, and Severus cursed himself for not having thought to talk to him about this sooner. "Really," Snape said as he nodded. "And if this will reassure you, I very rarely drink. And like most Potions masters, I'm immune to the effects of alcohol in high doses."

"Well, not me, and that's all the better for tonight," Harry grumbled. "I feel like I'm being run over by a steamroller…or a herd of hippogriffs, if you'd rather."

"I know what a steamroller is," Snape clarified. "Did you think to pack your bags for Hogwarts while you were here? We'll be returning for dinner, if that's all right with you. I don't feel in the mood to cook, and I assume you feel the same way."

"I really like cooking here," the boy said, "but a dinner fixed by the elves will be fine for tonight. I only have a few things to take, so I'd just as soon do it now."

"Do that," Severus agreed, "and we'll go directly to Hogwarts. I think your friends will be relieved to see you back. It would appear they're not happy to have lost their Quidditch Captain again…and Albus also mentioned an accident in Potions class?"

_Oh, Merlin._

"It's…I…actually, it wasn't exactly that, it just happened…"

"Yes?" Severus said, a trace of amusement in his voice.

"Well, obviously, cat fur doesn't mix well in the composition of all potions. Anyway, not in the one Ron was preparing."

"I see," the professor sighed. "And the consequences of this little experiment?"

"Nothing serious, really," Harry was quick to reply, "and nothing permanent. Really, it wasn't that dramatic."

"Nothing that would've earned you a detention if I'd been there?" Snape asked slyly.

"That doesn't count; you always give me detentions."

"Another thing that will have to change, I suppose," the professor said. "But no use hoping for preferred treatment in class, Mister Potter. I expect a veritable zeal in class from you, and I won't overlook the mistakes that I have here any longer."

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to," Harry grimaced, as he emptied his glass of Firewhisky in a gulp. Merlin, it was really strong. "As long as you treat me just like any other Slytherin."

When Harry began to cough, unable to control the burning sensation in his throat, he thought he heard Severus laugh softly.

"Go get your bags ready, Salazaar, and meet me in the laboratory. I'm going to alert Albus of our arrival."

Before Harry had the time to find an indignant reply, the professor had gone, leaving Harry alone and choking in the middle of the sitting room. Merlin, it was humiliating; he'd drunk Firewhisky before this, though. He shot a dark look at the bottle. It was just a matter of getting used to it, was all. With a nimble gesture, he served himself another glass and drank it slowly.

There, it just took practice…sipping his whisky gingerly. And now, he felt completely up to the task of returning to Hogwarts. With his Man In Black. And let no one try to say a thing, because Snape was really a good person, the only one who could make him feel vulnerable and safe at the same time.

Hold on…was it all in his head, or was he now purring in his human form?

A few minutes later, he went back to the dungeons with the few items he'd neglected to take the time before. Some toiletries, a book, and…the photo that McGonagall had taken, carefully tucked into his robe pocket. He was ready, completely ready.

Severus was waiting for him in front of the fireplace, the green flames prepared for their departure.

"You'll be all right?" Snape asked as he saw the boy coming.

"Floo powder doesn't like me much, but I should get there," Harry replied.

Snape looked at him suspiciously, and opened his mouth to speak before changing his mind. A hand on the young man's shoulder, he stepped forward beside him, and then into the fireplace.

Floo travel seemed decidedly much more cooperative in the presence of a Potions master, and Harry entered the Headmaster's office on his own two feet, barely staggering.

His head was spinning in spite of himself—this bloody fireplace really had a grudge against him…and Merlin, it was hot in the office. But it was good to come back here with Severus at his side, so soon after their dramatic exit.

As if he'd been waiting, Dumbledore was there to welcome them, that perpetual, irritating little smile on his face. But he wasn't alone, Harry noticed. McGonagall was there as well, and Harry was overcome by a burst of affection for the witch who'd given him his photo. He'd really have to tell Severus what she'd told him; that would surely please him. He gave her a big smile as Severus stepped back slightly, dusting off his robes.

"Welcome home, my boys," the Headmaster said enthusiastically.

"Home is the Manor," Harry replied in his most serious tone. But his voice sounded much less dignified than he would've liked. Someone coughed in a corner of the room, and Harry squinted to try and see who it was. His vision seemed oddly blurry this evening. He lifted a hand to check that he was wearing his glasses, but this was a detail that would've been hard for him to forget. The figure that'd coughed took a few steps forward, and Harry recognized a slightly smiling Remus.

"Ah, you're here, " Harry grumbled.

"I hope I'm not intruding? I'd like to speak with Professor Snape," Lupin said softly.

"Oh no, you're not going to start that again!" Harry shouted. Behind him, he sensed Snape step closer and felt secretly reassured. Severus wasn't going to let him down now.

"Excuse me, Harry, I'm afraid I don't understand," the werewolf said.

"You're going to talk about me behind my back again, and that's not all right with me. Anyway, it's all been sorted out. I talked to Severus, and he's on my side, so it's not even worth it!" the boy said with determination. In front of him, the faces seemed more and more befuddled, starting with that of his father.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry. I just wanted to discuss the new formulation of Wolfsbane with Professor Snape."

"Why not blame the potion!" the boy exclaimed, louder than he'd intended. "Do you take me for an imbecile?"

"Mister Potter," a cold voice said from behind him, "once again I must remind you that the world does not revolve around your little ego."

"You—you're on my side, remember?" Harry lashed out without turning. He had a very clear-cut intuition that pivoting on his heels at this exact moment would be a very bad idea for his equilibrium. "And anyway, Remus never bothers with me!"

The sulky tone of his voice elicited a smile from the Head of Gryffindor, but only made the new professor become even paler.

"Harry, I'm really sorry if you think I've deserted you recently, as I told you briefly, I really didn't have a choice. But now that I'm back…"

"It's too late now. It was when I was young that you should've been there. You're really pathetic," he flung out the insult, before getting hold of himself. Was it really he who'd just said that? But then again, it was truly deserved! "What reason do you have for abandoning me when I was a child? Another potion?"

Now that he thought about it, maybe his statement didn't make much sense. But he really didn't want to think. All the anger, and all the accumulated frustration over Remus wanted to come out now, and he had no desire to hold it in.

"Bloody hell, Harry, I never had the slightest chance of getting your guardianship; I thought you knew that. Werewolves don't have any legal standing, and think of the danger I would've represented for you," the professor tried to defend himself, obviously overwhelmed by the situation.

"But I don't care!" Harry wailed. "You didn't have to leave me with such horrible people! You should've checked! You should've found a way! Severus would've found one—he would've!"

Was it his imagination, or had Snape just sniggered.

"Harry, I think it best if we discuss this with cooler heads, but be assured that I'm sorry, more than you can imagine, for everything that's happened. If you'd only give me a second chance to—"

"No," the boy said dully, "it's too late, you're not my father anymore."

The silence that fell over the room seemed as thick and icy as a freezing fog.

"I…no, indeed," Remus finally said. "I'm afraid I've never been one."

"Exactly," Harry added, "and Severus was there for me, and protected me, and sang me lullabies, and came to look for me, and he's the one I'm choosing."

There was a choking sound behind him, something like a horrified chuckle that'd got stuck in a throat.

"Perhaps Firewhisky wasn't such a good idea, all things considered," Snape murmured, seeming torn between laughter and horror.

"You made him drink?" McGongall asked, outraged.

"A moment of distraction after a long day, but I suspect our little Gryffindor served himself another glassful for courage, after I left," Snape replied with dignity.

"Harry," Remus interrupted, "are you feeling all right?"

"Never better," the boy said, "and I'm sorry if I hurt you, but we really had to talk. Isn't that true?"

"Very true, very true, but I'm not certain I understood it all," the professor went on.

"But me, I understood it all, and no thanks to you! I had to spy! But actually, I didn't do that on purpose," he said with an apologetic look in Snape's direction. "I was walking in the corridors, in my cat form, and there was something following me…and I came into the Head…well, this office, in fact. Here. I hid and listened to you talking. And that's when you were talking about me, like usual, and how you were going to explain to me that I was your son. And that—that was honestly crappy," he said with a heavy look of reproach for Remus.

There was a little cry from the side of the room where McGonagall was, a groan from behind his back, and the Headmaster suddenly made chairs appear just behind Harry and Lupin, who was staring at the boy, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

A second later, the professor sat heavily in one of the chairs, while Harry, whose balance was increasingly betraying him, took one as well. He felt rather than heard Severus come to stand beside him, slightly to the back. He couldn't see him, and yet, Harry would've sworn he could feel the professor's emotions… A mixture of amusement, and anger, but not directed at him. All of it bathed in a vague awkwardness that intrigued Harry. He didn't have anything to worry about, bloody hell…

"Severus is all right with me staying with him," he announced, "and I don't want to go elsewhere. I know I'm a bit old to want parents, but Snape is really good at it. That's weird, eh? I would've never believed it either. But he doesn't hate me anymore, at least most of the time, and I'm his cat and he's my Man In Black, so it's simpler now. He's my father and I really love him."

Once again, he felt without seeing the wave of emotions sweep over the Potions master. A hand came to briefly squeeze his shoulder, and Harry smiled. Why had he thought this simple word so difficult to say? It was enough to just think very hard about what he felt, and then it was as simple as a hello!

"Harry, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding," Remus said weakly, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Not for me," the boy answered, not inclined to let himself be interrupted. "Besides, he has a certificate of, um, I don't know anymore, but for Shadow. And I even have the medal to go with it, look!" he said as he proudly showed off the bracelet, with a big smile for Dumbledore. The Headmaster answered him with a nod, his deeply amused expression in direct contrast to the dismayed face of McGonagall at his side.

"Harry," Remus interrupted again, his voice stronger this time, "I'm not your father, by Merlin's beard!"

"You…what?" the boy replied. Lupin was really too obtuse; Harry couldn't follow him.

"I'm not your father, Harry. Well, what could've given you such an idea? You're the spitting image of James!" the professor cried.

"But that's not true, I look like my mother too, and she could've, I don't know, cast a spell…and it's very wicked that you slept with her, Remus! Honestly, what were you thinking?"

"Merlin, will you listen to me?" the werewolf barked, seeming to have increasing difficulty at remaining calm. "I-am-not-your-father, I've never been. Your biological father is James Potter, without any possible doubt, and whatever I think of Severus as an adoptive father, I'm well aware of never showing myself to be a credible father figure!"

Too many words. Far too many words. But, all the same…

"Did he just say that…" Harry stammered in Severus' direction, who came closer to kneel at his side, a tired smile on his face.

"No, Harry, you're not Remus Lupin's son," he confirmed gently. "Stupid child, where did you come up with such an idea?"

"But…but…you yourself told me earlier…" His head seemed to suddenly weigh a tonne, and he let it fall into his hands, knocking his glasses askew along the way. Severus carefully took them off and put them into his pocket. "I don't understand anything anymore," he finally confessed.

"Here's what happens to cats that are too curious," Snape answered in the same low voice, "and to self-centered young men. I think it's time to go to our rooms and eat a good meal. We'll discuss this later."

"Remus isn't my father, but you are?" Harry said pitifully.

"You've grasped the general idea," Severus agreed with a slight smile.

"Merlin, what did you have him drink?" McGonagall exclaimed from the other end of the room.

"Two butterbeers and a half-glass of Firewhisky, which surely didn't mix well with the calming potion. Especially if he helped himself to another glass before coming here," the Potions master replied.

"Just a glass to make sure," Harry mumbled. A distance away, he heard the Headmaster's familiar laugh.

"Perhaps a hangover potion would be in order, Severus," he suggested.

"No, I don't think so," the professor told him with a hint of irony. "Someone here has a lesson to learn on the subject of alcohol."

"I suspect our young friend will appreciate the true value of that when he's recovered his mind," Dumbledore chuckled.

"Oh, I think it will be memorable," Snape murmured as he stood. "Lupin, one last word for posterity?"

"I…" Taking a deep breath, Remus took his turn to stand and advanced a few steps toward the boy still slumped in his chair. "Harry, whatever you think of me, know that I truly did my best, and I'll continue to do so. We'll talk about this when you're feeling better…and I meant what I said when we talked before—don't forget that, you mustn't hesitate to come to see me. Understood?"

Giving up trying to put all the pieces of the puzzle in place, Harry nodded with a comforting smile. "All right, Remus. It's not important anyway. I have Severus."

"So I believe I've understood, yes," the werewolf growled. But this time, Harry didn't sense hostility in his voice.

"Very well, young man," Snape said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Off to the dungeons."

"I…I'm not entirely sure that's a good idea. Couldn't we go back to the Manor instead?" Harry struggled to say.

"Ah, the dungeons, distant and hostile territory," Snape said idly. "Transform yourself, alley cat, I don't want you to be seen in the castle in this state. Merlin, what splendid fuel for fodder."

Gratefully, the teenager quickly took his feline form, and let his master pick him up, before nestling comfortably into his robes. Snape was definitely the most pleasant way to travel that Harry'd ever known. He gave himself over to the rocking motion of the professor's agile footsteps, digging his claws voluptuously into the black cloth.

As he succumbed to the fuzzy fog that'd been threatening to engulf him for several minutes, he seemed to hear a female voice from far away.

"Severus, pinch me. Am I dreaming, or is he really suckling at your robes?"

"Personally, I'd be more curious to know what happened to his tail… Albus, any idea on that question?"

_Oh, Merlin. _More trouble.

* * *

_A lot of thanks to Raewhit for translating one more chapter ! Hurrah! I must admit that I enjoyed writing this one quite a lot… if I managed to make you sad and then laugh while reading this, well, that was the point actually! ;-)_

_By the way, I don't have any artistic talent, but if anyone was willing to waste some time on a drawing of the Green Room… I would be really grateful !_

_And soon, 'more trouble', of course !_


	37. Chapter 37 Curiosity Killed The Cat

**Chapter Thirty-seven: Curiosity Killed the Cat**

"No."

"Harry…"

"Not a chance."

"I'm counting to three."

"You can count to a hundred-thousand if it amuses you, I'm not moving!"

"Enough childishness, you can't hide here until the end of time; you have five seconds to come out!"

"I thought it was three?"

With a groan of exasperation, Snape flung the door open wide before striding purposefully into the room. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the spectacle of the boy, or rather what he could see of him, rolled up tight in a ball in his coverlet, hiding behind the bed.

"That's enough, Potter. Get up, this comedy's gone on long enough. It's high time to show your glorious person in public."

"Tell me I was dreaming," the boy moaned beneath his coverlet. "That it was just a terrible nightmare!"

"If you feel well enough to claim that was the case, I have no objection. Lupin, on the other hand…" A horrified groan stopped him as the mound of blankets tried to hide farther behind the bed. At the end of his patience, Snape lifted his wand and aimed at the coverlet, which rose up in the air, quickly snatched back by two hands clenching it with all their might.

"No! Leave me alone!"

Snape watched the battle between the piece of cloth and the teenager for a moment, before shaking his head in amusement.

"And if I were to suggest a headache potion?"

This time, a tuft of black hair emerged from the mound of fabric, followed by a pair of green eyes, reddened with dark circles under them.

"You'd do that?" Harry asked hoarsely.

"After we've had a little discussion, certainly," Snape answered smoothly. The head disappeared again.

"I knew it was a trap. You always set traps. And don't shout so much, Merlin, my head's about to explode."

"I've not yet started to raise my voice, Potter, but that could very well happen if you don't quickly choose to act in a civilized manner," Severus replied, his voice full of menace.

"How could I've got myself in such a mess?" the boy moaned without budging an inch. "It's still your fault, all of it!"

"Oh really?" Snape sneered. "And might I know how?"

"I don't know yet," Harry ground out, "but it's always your fault, this sort of thing. "Would an Obliviate be possible?" he suddenly asked with a gleam of hope.

"Not a chance. Now, get up. This is my last warning."

"Not a chance either," Harry told him, burying himself under the coverlet again.

The answer was as rapid as it was laconic. Lifting his wand, Snape spoke the incantation evenly. "_Aguamenti."_

A downpour of water dumped onto the pile of blankets and its occupant, who let out a hoarse cry. And instant afterward, a damp black cat took off at top speed, hissing and spitting, fleeing through the open door of the room, leaving a Potions master with a small satisfied smile. Who'd ever said that getting a teenager to obey was complicated? All that remained was to convince the cat to come out from under the wardrobe or whatever other place it'd chosen to hide under to express its unhappiness. But for that, he had the remedy.

"Shadow, how about a tin of tuna?" he directed at the pair of furious green eyes shooting lightning bolts from beneath the settee. An unhappy growl answered him.

"That's enough, Harry, come out from there! You must face the reality of the situation sooner or later. This isn't the sort of reaction I expect from you."

The remarks seemed to hit their mark, and the cat's green eyes disappeared, before reappearing several seconds later on the face of the boy behind the settee. His face tense, clearly struggling with a serious headache, he fell onto the cushions.

"I really don't feel like being brave this morning, but I suppose you're right; no way to get out of it," he sighed. "Merlin, this was your fault—why did you let me drink like that? You're turning out to be a fine guardian—congratulations!"

"You sound just like Minerva," Snape said indignantly as he crossed his arms on his chest. "It this a feline trait, blaming someone else for what is your own fault, or just a Gryffindor tendency?"

"Probably a feline trait," Harry admitted, burying his head in his arms. "But didn't you say something about a potion and it reacting badly with alcohol?"

"I must admit the effect was rather unexpected," Severus said. "But I doubt the quantity of alcohol you consumed in my presence was sufficient to produce it."

"Obviously not," the boy murmured. "Maybe I was a bit…well, it's possible since I had another glass after you left. Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry; it was stupid, but I needed a healthy dose of courage to go back and…I don't know what came over me."

"Courage? And who could've led you to believe that, only for an instant, you could find courage using alcohol?" Snape inquired.

"Not unheard of, it's like…like…oh, I'll think of the word when my brain's back in place. I just didn't want to feel so anxious. And yeah, I know, it was stupid and I regret it—are you happy now?"

"No, not entirely," the professor answered, "but first, breakfast."

"Give me a break here, you're a Potions master; you _have_ to have a better idea than that."

The pleading green eyes seemed so much like the cat's in that instant, that Snape almost had to smile. But no, this wasn't the time for it.

"You're a bit cheeky this morning, I see," he said slowly without giving any ground. "Breakfast first, followed by a potion on a full stomach. Last evening was proof enough of how sensitive you are to potions. Take a shower, get dressed and meet me in the dining room. And no complaining," he added.

"Yes, master," the teenager grumbled as he headed for the bathroom. Snape couldn't help but roll his eyes again, not even trying this time to hide a small smile when the boy was out of sight.

This was going to be a long day…a very long day, but he was fairly certain that his future adoptive son would no longer seek courage from a bottle of whisky. In any case, not today, and he was going to need a serious dose of it to face what awaited him.

When Harry came into the dining room several minutes later, he seemed slightly more relaxed and awake, but his eyes studiously avoided the Potions masters'. Without a word, he sat at his place.

"Sorry, I'm supposed to be taking care of breakfast," he muttered in between two slices of toast.

"I prefer my toast un-charred and my coffee drinkable, but I appreciate the thought," the professor replied.

"Oh, I've got much better with cooking spells recently," the boy protested.

"I don't doubt it. This morning, however…"

Harry went back to his plate again. No use denying that his cooking abilities would've probably been markedly affected by this buzzing in his head, and besides…

"What time is it?" he asked, noting that the professor was taking time for a cup of coffee.

"Past eleven," Snape replied calmly without looking up from his newspaper.

"What? You let me sleep all that time?" Harry choked out.

"After the…let's call it, emotionally charged day of yesterday and the events at the end of the evening, I thought it wouldn't do any harm to let you sleep. I confess that I myself did not get up early this morning."

"Oh. But you have a better excuse than me," Harry began, before setting his cup down. "Hey, didn't you say something about a potion?"

Snape lifted an ironic eyebrow. "A potion, really? For what, then?"

"Very funny," Harry grumbled. "For my horrible headache—this brain that feels like it's swollen and wants to makes my skull explode, and this pounding in my temples, would be a good place to start."

Severus laughed softly. "Is that all? How the devil could you've managed all those symptoms at the same time?"

"By drinking too much alcohol and a stupid potion that didn't mix well with it, if you want to know," Harry wailed, at the end of patience. "Could I have my potion now?"

"Tsk, tsk, such testiness so early in the morning…from the alcohol, let's say. How old are you exactly, Mister Potter?" Snape enquired, without making a move for a potion.

"Sixteen," Harry grumbled, burying his head in his hands, his headache worsened by his little outburst.

"Sixteen," Severus repeated slowly. "Old enough, then, to drink firewhisky?"

"That's what I thought," the boy moaned, "and I was wrong, all right? I swear I won't touch the vile stuff again until I'm of age, at least."

"At least? I suppose an occasion such as a seventeenth birthday _would_ merit a good bottle of firewhisky. Preferably, bottoms up."

At his words, Harry felt his stomach heave.

"You're a sadist," he replied, holding back a hiccough. "I suppose I'll take a glass on occasion, on a night out with friends, or a stupid reception, but not more than a glass, and not before…well, I promise you, not for a long time."

The boy's slightly green coloring was enough to convince Snape.

"What about a spicy cocktail, like the ones the Weasley twins are so fond of?" he asked.

"Stop, for pity's sake, no more talk of alcohol today," Harry said as he pushed his bowl away, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, all right, I was really stupid. I didn't think that stuff was so strong. I like butterbeer well enough, but it's never affected me like that. I really don't know what I was thinking. It was ridiculous. Oh, Merlin, _I _was ridiculous," he said, laying his forehead against the table.

"And that's an understatement," Snape said as he set a potion in front of him. Harry took it gratefully, then gulped it down without making a face.

Relieved, he set down the phial and sighed. "Better. Much better. Thanks, Severus," he said with a grateful look. But the professor was still staring at him with those unfathomable eyes, without making a move. "That's not all, is it?" Harry asked, feeling a knot form in his stomach. Had he really thought he'd get away with this so easily? With Snape? Big mistake…

"No, that's not all," the professor finally said. "I think there're several points that must still be discussed; the first being, Harry, that I must be able to trust you when I leave you alone at the Manor. Yesterday, it was a simple glass of firewhisky, but what will happen on the day you think you need a potion?"

"I'll ask you for it," the teenager answered honestly.

"And if it's a potion that you know perfectly well I'd not approve of?"

"I…" Harry stopped. It wasn't a stupid question. "The potions phials aren't labeled, so I don't think I'd risk it," he replied.

"I've not lost hope that the day will come when you'll recognize a potion by its appearance or odor," Snape retorted sarcastically. "And what will happen on that day when you find the potion you need?"

"I've never thought about it," Harry said as he shook his head. "Just the idea of going through your potions is rather frightening, in fact. But really, I can't imagine myself doing that behind your back, especially knowing you'd disapprove of it. I'm not stupid, all right? I know you do what's best for me. And I know you trust me. I just hope I'll never be desperate enough to do that sort of thing, because right now, just the idea seems horrible to me."

Once again, Snape nodded. "That's what I was hoping to hear. I don't intend to forbid you access to the laboratory or my stocks, that's understood. And I'll take care in the future to correctly label potions you might need in my absence. However, I want you to keep in mind that those that are not labeled are not for your use, and that appearances are very often deceiving, and that a completely ordinary-looking potion can be very dangerous. Understood?"

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. "Professor, I never intended to do that sort of thing. I'm sorry you think so; it really wasn't my intention, I mean…I just wanted to make sure I could drink firewhisky without choking. It's stupid, I know, but I didn't even think about how I was doing it in secret when I did it," he explained pitifully.

"I hope so, Harry," Snape said gently. "That little scene last night was especially pathetic, but I'll admit I was more worried over losing your trust, or having to doubt you."

"No, no," Harry replied quickly, "that's not it, I promise. I trust you and…really, you're the first person I'd come to talk to if I had a problem. Don't take it like that, please?"

Snape nodded, clearly satisfied. "Understood. I don't want you to hesitate over asking me anything, Harry. Even if it's something that's not feasible, I want us to be able to talk about it."

"Thanks," the boy said. "Really. That means a lot to me. And, er, I won't touch firewhisky again, that's for sure."

"One good thing," Severus answered, smiling slightly. "Let's move on to the embarrassing situation afterward."

"Oh Merlin," Harry said, hiding his face in his hands. No, he definitely wasn't going to get out of this one so easily. Having a guardian had its drawbacks. After all, only a few months ago, he would've got away with a few friendly jokes from Gryffindor, and possibly a lecture from McGonagall. But certainly not a heart-to-heart that made him want to shrivel up in his chair and disappear through the floor.

"What exactly do you remember of that little scene last night in the Headmaster's office?" Snape asked sternly.

"Too much," Harry said grumpily. "Remus, mainly, and that story about…er. Basically."

"Correct," Severus said pointedly. "Any questions on the matter?"

The teenager looked up thoughtfully. Questions? He'd made a fool of himself by claiming to be Remus' son and throwing all sorts of horrible accusation in his face. He'd been so sure of himself…so sure.

"Wait a second," he said as he wrinkled his forehead. "I'm missing something. I did hear Remus talking to Dumbledore about his son, in his office, and even you admitted he had one!"

"Precisely," Snape said.

"But if it's not me, then who?"

Severus sat for a few seconds, watching Harry with a mocking look on his face. "You haven't the slightest idea? Think a bit," he suggested. "Whom has Lupin been trying to protect from the start?"

"Protect? I don't' see…except maybe…no!" Harry burst out, his breath short and his eyes bulging. "It can't be that?"

"That, or more precisely, him, Loki," the Potions master replied calmly. "Lupin's favorite new problem."

"You don't' mean…Merlin, but what does that mean? I thought Loki was on Voldemort's side?" Harry exclaimed.

"He is," Severus admitted somberly. "But you must first understand that Loki isn't actually an ordinary wizard, and that he didn't grow up with his father. In reality, he was raised in very odd circumstances, and he and Lupin only met each other very recently."

"But I don't understand," the boy objected, "how Remus could've abandoned his son? That's just not like him."

"Harry, Lupin wasn't aware he had a son until a short time ago," Snape answered gently. "He's still having a great deal of trouble facing the situation."

"And who's his mother?" Harry asked, still shocked. Across from him, he saw Severus stiffen imperceptibly.

"For that, you must ask your friend, Lupin. It's not for me to speak of his affairs."

"That's still what you're doing," the boy pointed out.

"After the fiasco of last night, Lupin requested that I be the first to talk to you about this particular information," Severus replied. "I can't say that I don't understand."

At his words, Harry felt the shame, which had briefly been put off by astonishment, fall heavily on his shoulders. "Oh Merlin," he said, sinking back in his chair. "It's simply horrible. I was horrible. And everything I said about…oh, Merlin."

"You're remembering it better now?" Snape asked, his voice threatening.

"A bit. I really don't want to get into it, that being said," Harry replied.

"That's truly a shame," the professor continued firmly, "because that is still what is going to happen."

Harry sat up straighter, worried. "What do you mean?"

"That I'm not going to allow you to put all of this aside and pretend nothing happened, or let you hide your head in the sand. You made a decision last night; you will have to suffer the consequences."

The professor's dangerous tone of voice made Harry start. "How exactly?" he asked.

Snape slowly got up and crossed the dining room, then took a basin from a sideboard. Holding it firmly in his hands, he went back to Harry and placed it on the table in front of him.

"This way," he said calmly.

Harry felt his blood freeze. No, he really didn't want to… "I have to look in the Pensieve?" he asked weakly.

Severus nodded, not speaking a word.

"But I…I remember well enough; I don't think this is necessary," he said defensively. Unsuccessfully.

"I think it is," the professor ground out. "As soon as you feel ready, and keep in mind what you've just learnt."

Oh, Merlin. "And if I'm never ready?" he tried, without hope.

"I'll be extremely disappointed," Snape replied, staring at him with his hard, black eyes.

An expression that Harry didn't like to see on that face. It really was effective blackmail, he thought. But that hardly left him with any choice. Sighing, he leant into the Pensieve, and watched apprehensively as the Headmaster's office formed around him.

His sensational entrance…the way he'd attacked Remus, and the man's confused face…

_"You're going to talk about me behind my back again, and that's not all right with me. Anyway, it's all been sorted out. I talked to Severus, and he's on my side, so it's not even worth it!"_

Uh-oh.

"_You're on my side, remember?"_

No, he hadn't really talked to Snape that way, had he? With such authority and so sure of himself? And Snape'd had nothing to say? But the expression on his face—a mixture of surprise, amusement, and a definite trace of irritation.

All the accusations he'd thrown at Remus, who seemed more and more dejected with each one, all the while trying to make himself heard. And to realize that all that time, he was thinking of Loki. And Harry, accusing Remus of being a bad father, of having abandoned him, of not having done anything…

_"Severus is all right with me staying with him,"_ he babbled in the Pensieve, "_and I don't want to go elsewhere. I know I'm a bit old to want parents, but Snape is really good at it. That's weird, eh? I would've never believed it either. But he doesn't hate me anymore, at least most of the time, and I'm his cat and he's my Man In Black, so it's simpler now. He's my father and I really love him."_

Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. He felt his mind struggle with the scene he'd just witnessed; he'd not really made that sort of declaration, there, in the middle of the Headmaster's office, in front of everyone? He hadn't said that to Severus, he who was so discreet when it came to his feelings? He couldn't have…oh no!

And McGonagall's absolutely outraged expression, the Headmaster's amusement, Remus' confusion, and Snape's obvious annoyance despite his words…no, no, no, it was too, too pathetic, too humiliating, too everything! And yet, he'd felt so good at that moment, comforted by Snape's soothing words, when he'd taken him in his arms in his cat form.

Oh. Oh no. He hadn't actually…oh yes. He'd really suckled at Snape's robes. Snape's. And his tail had suddenly become green again, and Severus had seen it, and McGonagall, and Dumbledore, and Remus.

This time, he was sure he was going to die of shame. He could remember that Snape had carried him to the dungeons, fed him and had him transform, then changed his pyjamas and led him to bed, where he'd miserably collapsed. The professor had probably even had to tuck in the covers himself, because he didn't remember having done it. Oh, Merlin.

The image in the Pensieve had long since ended, but Harry hadn't managed to convince himself to open his eyes again. He felt something warm pressed into his hands, and the powerful aroma of coffee drifted up.

"Take that, and I'll give you another potion," Snape said gently.

With difficulty, Harry decided to open his eyes, but kept them carefully riveted on the cup. No way, never ever, would he look Snape in the face again.

"Your day today is free," the professor continued, "but I think it'd be nice if you paid Lupin a visit."

Harry felt his throat constrict. "I…I don't know if that's a good idea."

"I doubt the matter will come up," Snape replied dryly. "Even if your words were fueled by alcohol, you nonetheless owe Lupin an apology." Gently but firmly, he took Harry's chin in his hand to force him to look up. "You're my responsibility, and I can understand your outburst of last night. Lupin, on the other hand, need not tolerate your lack of tact and respect."

_Because you're my son, and not his,_ Harry read in the professor's dark look. And strangely, that seemed logical. He smiled weakly.

"I'll try."

"That won't be enough," Severus answered.

"I…"

"Harry. I can accept taking a drunk teenager into my rooms, but not that you don't take responsibility for your actions. I've already apologized to Lupin, and I don't expect any less from you. Besides, Lupin is waiting for you to visit him today."

"You…you apologized? But why?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"For the poor conduct and inappropriate speech of my son," Severus replied, making sure of every word.

Harry felt his stomach knot. He didn't deserve so much, not after what he'd done last night. Unable to bear Severus' eyes any longer, he pulled away, and the hand holding his jaw did the same, albeit regretfully.

"I'll do it," Harry said as he got up. "I…I'd like to see Ron and Hermione first. Do you think I could go up to Gryffindor tower?"

"I imagine they're in the Great Hall just now. I must go down there myself. Take the Floo to your common room—I'll alert Minerva and your friends that you're in lion country," Snape said casually.

"Good. See you later, then," Harry replied. Without waiting for an answer, he took off for the fireplace, not stopping until he was in front of one of the comfortable red Gryffindor armchairs, where he collapsed.

Never in his life had he felt so deeply ashamed. He'd already got himself into some particularly embarrassing situations before, but never to this degree, and never in the presence of people who cared for him so much. He'd hurt Remus, and attacked Snape's pride, just when the man was deciding to accept him as a son. He'd spoilt everything, once again. He really had to make his apologies to Remus, and truly, he was late in doing so…but after that, he was only asking one thing: to be able to bury himself in his bed in the Gryffindor dorm, and never come out again.

Harry'd been thinking gloomy thoughts for a few minutes when the portrait opened to show two familiar faces: with a cry of happiness, Hermione jumped over to hug him, followed by Ron, who came to perch at his side on the arm of the chair.

"Already back? With all the rumors going around, we didn't think we'd see you so soon," Ron teased.

"Rumors? Again? Like I need those," Harry grumbled.

"Harry, did Snape really spirit you away and take you to a hiding place guarded by dragons in Albania?" Hermione asked in her most serious tone of voice.

"What? Of course not. I was just at the Manor, and willingly! Who started those ridiculous stories?"

"Started, I don't know, but I can tell you who spread them. Malfoy seems to have a serious grudge against Snape recently," Ron said. "But the important thing is you're back; we have a practice tomorrow evening, remember? The Slytherins have put their team together, and honestly, I don't think they'll be hard to beat, but the Ravenclaws, on the other hand…"

"Really, Ron, there're more important things than Quidditch," Hermione told him sharply. "What happened, Harry? I thought you were supposed to stay at Hogwarts, under Ministry orders until further instructions."

"There was a little incident with Snape, and we preferred to go home for a while," Harry cautiously tried to explain. "But we're back for good, at least I hope so."

"Nothing serious?" Hermione asked soberly.

"Nothing I can talk about, no. Except that…" Harry sighed. If there were two people to whom he could talk about his misadventures of the night before, it was Ron and Hermione. "I did something horrible yesterday. And now, I have to apologize to Remus, and probably Snape as well, when I'm done. Believe me, firewhisky isn't near as much fun when you're drinking it by yourself," he said bitterly.

As he expected, Ron burst out laughing. "Oh Merlin, you have to tell me about this! But not until I call Fred and George—they'll want to know everything."

"No, absolutely not. I don't even know if I should tell you, but…promise me you'll keep it a secret, all right? It's really important."

"Harry, if you're not sure it's all right to talk about it, maybe it'd be better not to," Hermione suggested.

"Are you daft?" Ron exclaimed. "If Harry wants to talk to us about it, it's because he has good reason to. And he knows very well we won't say anything anyway. We're listening, mate."

Harry sighed.

"It's not just that I want to talk about it; it might be important. It's about Loki and Remus. And firewhisky, yeah," he added bitterly.

It took but a few minutes to summarize the scene that'd taken place in the Headmaster's office, leaving Hermione horror-stricken and Ron hilarious.

"Oh Merlin, I'd have loved to see Snape's face when you told him to shut up and agree with you," Ron laughed.

"No, the most important part of it is Loki," Hermione agreed. "Harry, it's horrible. And you're sure Loki's on Voldemort's side?"

"Outside of the fact he tried to kill me?" the young man asked. "Yeah, Hermione, I'm certain of it, and Severus as well. But Remus, he was livid when he learned that Loki had attacked us, and that Snape defended me. He was worried about his son, not me. That's why he thanked Severus," he suddenly realized aloud, "because he didn't kill Loki when he had the chance. Severus was furious."

"He had reason to be," Ron added. "Can you imagine—the son of a Hogwarts professor tries to kill you! It's hard for me to believe that someone like Remus could let one of his children turn out so badly."

"That's really not what happened; apparently, Remus had just learnt he had a son. And Severus said something odd about that…" That he'd played a part in his conception, Harry remembered. But this wasn't something he wanted to share with his friends. That was between him and Severus. "Doesn't matter," he said. "Anyway, I have to be doubly wary of this thing, this Animagus, or whatever. Because Remus for sure won't protect me from him."

"This must be a terrible dilemma for him," Hermione agreed. "I can't imagine what he must be feeling; he's very fond of you, Harry, and your accusations last night must've hurt him a great deal," she chided.

As if he needed to hear that…

"I know, Hermione. I intend to go and talk to him. You have class with him, coming up, don't you? How are classes going, by the way?"

"Rather well, but Remus seems much more distracted than he was in third year. I understand better why now," Hermione said.

"Really, nothing's simple when it comes to family," Harry sighed.

"Oh, it seems really simple to me," Ron replied. "A too-protective mother, a father who collects Muggle artifacts, too many brothers to remember everyone's first names, a few pretentious morons, a little sister who can't decide which boy to go out with, and hideous jumpers. Yeah, rather simple," he said with a big smile, making his two friends laugh out loud.

"At my house, it'd be toothbrushes instead, horrible cousins, and maniac parents!" Hermione added.

"And for me, a Slytherin Potions professor and tins of tuna, but I'm not complaining," Harry said with a smile. Nodding their heads in concert, his two friends looked at him intently, as if the idea of Harry's situation with Snape suddenly seemed conceivable to them. The conversation started up again naturally, and Harry felt the weight of guilt and shame fade away in the course of their joking.

"We're going to have to go," Hermione finally said, glancing at the large clock above the fireplace. "Do you want us to leave a message with Professor Lupin for you?"

Harry groaned softly. "Yeah, tell him I'll come to see him in his office after class. Might as well deal with it as soon as possible, I guess."

"Wise decision. Apologies are like Howlers: the longer you wait, the worse it is," Ron announced sagely. "Oh, there's a package of Chocolate Frogs waiting for you on your bed. One of the girls on the team wanted to thank you; McGonagall checked—they're not poisoned."

"Wonderful," Harry muttered. "Now I'm going to have to check everything I eat that's not from the kitchens, like I need more paranoia."

"Sorry, but look on the bright side: you got Chocolate Frogs!" With a last pat on the shoulder from Ron, and another admonition to be careful from Hermione, his two friends left the common room, leaving Harry alone.

A bit too alone, he thought after a few minutes of dwelling on his thoughts. Bloody hell, when was he going to be allowed to go back to classes? There was the matter of his powers, of course, but he'd have to talk to Severus about that. Except that for now, he sort of wanted to avoid the professor…give things time to settle, time to see things more clearly. Time to find a way to make Snape proud of him. Obviously, making up for last evening wasn't going to be easy.

First off, he'd have to start with Remus. But classes wouldn't be over for a good two hours, and what was he supposed to do while he waited? Revising would've been the ideal idea, but all his belongings and Hermione's notes were still downstairs with his trunk, in the room Severus had given him. He shot a glance at the clock; it still wasn't very late, and Snape had said he had to talk with McGonagall. Maybe he hadn't got back yet? It was worth a try, he decided.

Using the Floo powder again, he called out his destination. The green flames had barely appeared when his suspicions were confirmed. Severus wasn't there. He wasn't able to say how he knew, but he didn't sense his presence there. Feline instinct, he supposed, as he passed through the flames, only to be quickly propelled out onto the carpet of the sitting room. For sure, even over short distances, the Floo hated him…

Not bothering to dust himself off, Harry headed for his room. Seeing the furnishings he'd transfigured with Severus' help, the young man couldn't help but smile. He'd only spent one night here, but he already had pleasant memories. Groaning, he rushed for his trunk sitting in the corner. Most of his clothes were there, far too many for him to wear them all. Severus hadn't technically overdone it…but two uniforms, several shirts, sweaters, trousers and underwear were enough. He rummaged in a bag holding his class supplies, and with one last look around the room, got ready to turn on his heels.

But something wasn't right, he could sense it. Something was coming, or rather, _someone_: Severus! He was there, just outside, Harry was sure of it. Seized by a sudden panic, Harry took off at a run for the fireplace, his bag on his shoulder. The door was opening when he threw the handful of powder, and he had just enough time to hurtle into the flames, but not quickly enough to miss hearing the professor call out to him.

Heart pounding, he took the stairs to the dormitory four at a time. Merlin, he was stupid…fleeing from Snape. That wasn't like him, or at least not anymore, in any case. He knew he had nothing to fear, obviously, but there was something unbearable about the idea of facing his new guardian so soon, a totally uncomfortable feeling, any way he looked at it. But the worst, he realized, was that Severus had just seen him escape right out from under his nose. When it came to courage, he'd certainly seen better before.

Vaguely frustrated and discouraged, Harry set his bag next to his bed, and stretched out, trying in vain to think of something else. Positive, he had to think positive…Hedwig! He could go see her this evening if Ron and Hermione went with him. He'd missed the owl's presence at the Manor. If he promised Severus not to use her to send post, maybe he'd allow him to take her the next time?

Depending, of course, on his being able to face Severus again one day. "_He's my father and I really love him." _The words still made his face flush, even though he'd already gone over the scene a dozen times in his head. Never again, never again firewhisky.

Harry grabbed a Quidditch magazine lying on Ron's bedside table and began to catch up on the latest teams' news. He doubted that winning the Quidditch Cup would make him rise terribly in Snape's estimation, but at that instant, he dreamt of nothing better than flying for hours on his Firebolt, hair blowing in the wind. And especially, as far away as possible.

Time passed too slowly, minutes stretched out forever in the silence of the dormitory, until finally, two out of breath teenagers ran into the room.

"Harry, Professor Lupin said he's waiting for you in his office if you want to see him. Is everything all right?" Hermione asked as she tried to catch her breath.

"Everything's fine. I'm going to see him now, thanks, Hermione," the boy replied.

"Hey, mate, you moving back in here?" Ron asked as he noticed Harry's bag by the bed.

"Yeah, if it's all right with Snape," Harry answered, slightly annoyed.

"Oh Harry…" Hermione began. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, not only your safety, but after all that's happened as well…"

"Exactly," Harry said firmly. "It's time for me to have a bit of space. It's beginning to get…I don't know."

"Too much pressure?" Hermione suggested sympathetically.

"Yeah, maybe," Harry admitted.

Ron, though, seemed vaguely relieved…and satisfied. "That's perfect; we'll be able start off by going out—" he stopped at Hermione's murderous look.

"Out of the question! And whatever, it's time to go—we're going to miss Potions. Harry, can I trust you not to get into trouble?" the girl asked him severely.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm going down to see Remus—that's all."

"In that case, we'll go with you. No going off on your own, remember?"

"Okay, let's go. Not a good time to get Slughorn cross with you. For the first time a Potions professor likes us," Harry sighed.

"I've a feeling the former one doesn't hold much against you now, though; am I wrong?" Ron asked with a laugh as he went down the staircase.

"Up until now, no," Harry agreed, "but after last night, I don't know anymore."

"I really don't see why you're worried about it, Harry," Hermione said, amazed. "It doesn't seem as if Professor Snape's cross with you. He stood up for you and gave you a lecture this morning—all rather normal for a parent."

"And how am I supposed to know that sort of thing?" Harry grumbled. "Hermione, drop it, will you? It's complicated."

"Yeah, so I see," the girl replied gently, quickly squeezing his arm before continuing on her way to Remus' office.

Once in front of the office door, the three friends looked worriedly at each other for a moment.

"You'll be all right?" Ron asked.

"Sure," Harry sighed, annoyed. Why did everyone feel they had to ask him that question at every turn? "Go on, thanks for coming with me. I'll see you after class, I suppose."

His two companions nodded.

"Be brave," Hermione said, her voice full of compassion as they went on their way. With a last wave, they disappeared at the end of the corridor. Harry hesitated for an instant as he stared at the heavy wooden door. It had never seemed so forbidding before. Taking a deep breath, he summoned his courage, and knocked.

"Come in," the familiar voice called out. The knot in his stomach suddenly tighter, Harry obeyed.

"Ah, Harry," the professor said, relieved, as he saw him come in. Relieved, but nevertheless tense, the boy noted.

"Professor," he began.

"Remus, please," Lupin interrupted him. "That formality isn't necessary, Harry. Please, sit down."

"No, I…don't need to. I won't bother you for long." Merlin, no, certainly not. At that moment, he could understand the need he'd felt for an extra dose of courage. Certainly not firewhisky, though.

"You're not bothering me, you see. Your friends said you wanted to talk to me?" the werewolf encouraged him.

"Listen, Remus, I'm really sorry. For last night, for everything," Harry began, having trouble looking the man in the eyes. The glimmer of suffering he saw in them didn't help matters. If only Severus had been there to help him, like last night.

"I understand, Harry, and I appreciate your apology. The situation was in the least unusual," Remus said gently.

"I shouldn't have been drinking," Harry went on, more and more desperate, "and I should've come to talk to you about that another time. Not like that, in front of everyone…and everything I said…it was awful."

Remus sighed. "I understand your reasoning, after the conversation you overhead, Harry. And I can also understand you felt betrayed by my desertion."

Harry felt his heart pound hard in his chest. "I didn't have any right to accuse you; it was stupid and spiteful," he offered. "I don't know what I was thinking. I really believed…it was totally ridiculous. And inappropriate."

"Let's not talk about it anymore," Remus said dismissively. "Did Severus have time to talk to you this morning?"

"Um, yeah. He told me about Loki. I'm sorry for that as well, Remus. It must be horrible for you."

"It's certainly not an easy situation," the professor sighed. The defeat and weariness were so clear on his face and in the slump of his shoulders, that Harry felt a flash of pity for the wizard.

"I wasn't thinking about what I said last night, you know," he hurried on to say. "I'm sure you're a great father. To Loki, I mean." Merlin, he was starting all over again. Harry could feel his face flushing once more. He needed mercy, whatever, a miracle, an attack from Voldemort—only let someone get him out of here!

"Oh, I doubt that," Remus replied bitterly, not noticing Harry's discomfiture. "For now, it's rather difficult to communicate. Just a few months ago, I didn't know I had a son, and now, I don't want to think it's too late, but it's very difficult. Loki doesn't really need me in his life."

"Maybe he just doesn't know it yet," Harry answered. Remus smiled weakly.

"It's odd, but it's really rather encouraging to see the relationship you and Severus have developed. I won't hide from you that I was more than skeptical at first, but to see the two of you together… I tell myself that maybe it's not totally impossible with Loki. My own son hates me, but I can't hold that against him, and if you and Professor Snape were able to reach this level of understanding, then it's all right to dream," he said thoughtfully.

Harry was dumbfounded. Was Remus referring to the scene of last night? He'd spoken rather insolently to Snape, before making a public declaration of his filial love, under the influence of alcohol. What could Remus find to envy in all of that? But he caught himself wishing desperately for the Potions master's presence to get him out of his embarrassment, and the realization stunned him.

"I'm sure it'll be all right, Remus," he said, wanting to sound convincing. "You need time, that's all."

"You're very positive, for someone who was almost killed by Loki," Lupin sighed. "Harry, I can't apologize enough for that. I have no control over him, but if I were to manage to make him listen to reason…"

"I know, I know, that's not necessary," Harry protested. "Speaking of that…I know Severus came to talk to you, and…don't be angry with him, all right? He didn't make me drink, or encourage me in any way to say all that. He didn't tell me a thing about you, or anything else. It was me and only me."

Remus nodded. "Not too long ago, I would've doubted that, but now I know. I don't doubt that Severus had nothing to do with your reaction, and his visit surprised me at first, but I can understand…"

Behind them the door was flung open, making them both jump. Harry felt his heart leap as he saw the dark figure advancing urgently toward them. Snape. But the bout of panic that'd just begun to fade away came back, full force. Not now. Not with Remus. Not here.

"Severus, I was just talking to Harry," Remus greeted him. Snape stopped a few steps away from them, his anxious eyes moving from one to the other. His hair was somewhat disheveled, and he was holding his wand in his hand, clearly ready to spring to action, Harry noted. But for what reason?

"Everything all right?" Severus asked, watching them.

"I…yeah, thanks. I came…yeah, finally. I'll leave the two of you; I have to go," Harry said rapidly.

"Wait," Remus protested. "No need...."

"Would it bother you if I sleep in the tower tonight?" Harry asked Snape, ignoring the werewolf. Severus frowned, but gave a jerk of his chin.

"I'll alert Minerva. I think you took your things with you?"

Without a word, Harry nodded.

"In that case, meet me tomorrow morning at eight in the third dungeon classroom. We'll work on the matter of your powers," Snape said.

"Tomorrow, then," Harry stammered, before heading for the door, his eyes glued to the floor. "Goodbye, Remus, sorry, again."

Without waiting for an answer, Harry transformed to navigate the corridors on four feet, as if the devil were on his heels.

And was it imagination, or was he once again being followed as he slipped along the wall, behind the suits of armor, to get to the Gryffindor common room? Breathing, furtive rusting—he wasn't mad! Speeding up, he was out of breath when he finally reached the portrait. The Fat Lady stared at him for an instant, clearly hesitating to open it for him.

"Password?" she asked.

A growl and a swipe of claws within a few inches of the canvas were enough to convince her.

"Very well, very well, no need to take such a tone! It's always the same with Animagi, unable to be civilized as soon as…" The rest of her speech was lost to Shadow, who streaked up the steps to make a single leap onto his mattress, burrowing under the covers. Shelter at last! Alone, somewhat relieved, and slightly unhappy, but emotions were sufficiently muted in his cat form, so he was able to quickly fall into a healing sleep, filled with dreams of tins of tuna and potions laboratories.

***

Once again, it was the arrival of his two friends that awakened him a few hours later.

"Up, fleabag!" Ron yelled as he threw back the covers, earning himself a meow of protest. Disturbing the sleep of a cat was truly a crime.

"By the way, Harry, have you come across Crookshanks? You positively have to meet him!" Hermione exclaimed. "In this form, I mean."

Irritated, the cat transformed into the teenager again.

"Have you already finished with classes? What time's it?"

"Five," Ron answered. "Time for a snack!"

"Ron Weasley, how old are you?" Hermione asked as she rolled her eyes. "You're not supposed to snack at your age; wait for supper."

"And if I'm hungry?" the boy moaned. "I've never seen it anywhere that there's an age limit for teatime, especially after such a horrible class."

"Horrible?" Harry asked with interest. "I thought Slughorn was nice?"

"Slughorn, yes," Hermione said, "but today he wasn't by himself."

"Snape joined him," Ron explained. "And I don't know what was up with him, but he was in a foul mood."

"Snape? He gave a class?" Harry exclaimed, stunned.

"Not really. Actually, he contented himself with taking points from everyone and reprimanding anyone who didn't perfectly prepare the potion Slughorn had us do. It was truly hellish. Slughorn on one side, giving us instructions, and Snape on the other, watching everyone with that eagle-eye of his. Even the Slytherins were nervous."

"That said, the Slytherins aren't very friendly towards Professor Snape now," Hermione admitted with an apologetic look toward Harry. "But Ron's right, it was truly awful. I know you get on with him well now, Harry, but he doesn't seem to have changed in class, and in all honestly, I'm not in much of a hurry to see him come back."

"Did he do any magic?" Harry asked thoughtfully. Severus hadn't told him anything about going back to class, but frankly, Harry hadn't really given him the time.

"No, I don't think so," Ron replied. "But I didn't really pay attention; I was too busy trying not to get myself killed in the middle of class."

"Merlin, I hope it's not because of what I said," Harry mused, suddenly struck with guilt.

"What, did you threaten to blow up his laboratory?" Ron asked. "Because, apart from that, I don't see what could've put him in such a bad mood."

"No, I told him I wanted to come back to Gryffindor tower. He agreed, but maybe he took it badly. I mean, I was supposed to stay with him for now."

"That was just a bit of insecurity, Harry. I doubt Professor Snape would be cross with you for that," Hermione tried to reassure him.

"I don't know; it's complicated lately. Maybe I shouldn't have."

"Listen, I'm sure you're worrying about nothing," Hermione insisted. "I think I know what was bothering the professor, and it had nothing to do with you, I can assure you of that."

"What, then?" Harry asked, vaguely irritated that the girl was claiming to know his Man In Black better than he.

"I didn't intend to tell you," she hesitated an instant, "but…I saw him put his hand on his forearm several times, as if it were hurting him. I think Voldemort was trying to summon him."

"Summon him?" Harry said, suddenly feeling he was about to be sick. "Torture him is more like it! I should've known… Merlin, I was hoping we'd bought a bit of time. I didn't think he'd start it up again so soon. I have to finish that psychopath off, once and for all," he said dully. He felt a light hand rest on his shoulder.

"You can't do anything about it for now, besides get your strength back and prepare yourself," Hermione said softly.

"I have training scheduled with Severus tomorrow morning. He said we'd work on my control. I understand why he's in such a hurry now. I should go talk to him; I've been really silly about this whole affair."

"Honestly, Harry," Ron intervened, "in your shoes, I'd leave him in peace. He was in a rotten mood, and knowing Snape, I think he'd prefer to be alone. Unless you really want him to take out his bad mood on you, of course."

"Not really, no," Harry admitted. "I suppose if he wants to see me, he'll come and find me." But in a way, that seemed disloyal. He shook his head. "I'll see how it goes tomorrow."

The temptation to transform into Shadow and run through the corridors to get to the Man In Black was strong, to curl up in his lap and purr to distract him, but was he really welcome just now? There was only one way to know.

"Do you have a minute? I have to check on something," he said to his friends. Without waiting, he headed for the Gryffindor common room, where he was greeted by a few of his housemates. Smiling and quickly answering questions and jokes, Harry made his way as quickly as possible to the fireplace, then threw in a handful of Floo powder. He'd definitely done well to take an extra measure before he'd left. He sensed, before seeing, that Severus wasn't in his rooms. Disappointed, Harry was getting ready to retreat, when he saw the little figure of a house-elf trotting in his direction.

"Dobby! Have you seen Professor Snape?"

"Professor Snape isn't here, Harry Potter," the elf squeaked. "He's in the Headmaster's office for a meeting with all the professors."

A meeting…this was his chance.

"Do you know when the meeting's supposed to be over?" he asked Dobby.

"Oh, Dobby does not think it will last more than an hour. Albus Dumbledore asked the kitchen elves to prepare a special meal for this evening, Harry Potter. For him and Professor Snape!"

"Snape and Dumbledore are dining together?" Harry exclaimed, the idea making him ill-at-ease.

"Yes, Harry Potter," Dobby agreed enthusiastically. "Dobby has just done the cleaning and prepared Harry Potter's room, sir!"

"My room?" the boy asked, intrigued. "But it's already ready."

"Professor Snape told Dobby there needed to be new shelves, and Gryffindor blankets, Harry Potter! In case Harry Potter changed his mind and would like to sleep here!"

Harry couldn't hold back a smile. Gryffindor blankets. It was just like Severus to think of that sort of detail. As for Harry, house colors hardly mattered to him, but the fact that Snape wanted his room ready for him—that answered his question. He was welcome there, of course. Even if it appeared that this evening his presence wasn't indispensable; after all, Severus had other people to rely on. Harry had a tendency to forget that, after the last times spent in isolation at the Manor.

He offered a big smile to the elf, who was watching him, his large eyes full of hope.

"Thank you, Dobby, it's really nice of you to take care of it. I don't think I'll be coming back down this evening, but another day, for sure."

"Harry Potter can ask for anything he wants. Dobby will do it!" the elf squeaked, batting his ears with pleasure.

The boy couldn't help but smile again. "Thanks, Dobby, that'll be good. Just don't let Professor Snape take care of decorating my room, all right? I doubt we have the same tastes, when it comes down to it."

"I promise, Harry Potter," Dobby replied with the utmost seriousness.

"See you later, then. If you need anything, I'll be in Gryffindor, you know where to find me."

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir!" the elf said, his eyes overflowing with tears of gratitude.

Without lingering any longer, Harry pulled himself back into the Gryffindor common room. It was with a lighter heart that he took part in a little explosive battle with Ron, Seamus and Neville, until the bell for supper finally sounded. Engaged in conversation with his friends, and happy to be back in the comfortable atmosphere of Gryffindor again, closely surrounded by his friends, the trip to the Great Hall seemed shorter and less anxious. It was only when he noticed the professors' table and Dumbledore's and Severus' empty seats that he felt a weight fall onto his shoulders again.

What could they be talking about? Him, would be a strong bet…and like always, he was being left out of it. But no, he decided, casting the idea aside. Snape and Dumbledore probably just had things to say to each other. As Severus had pointed out, Harry wasn't the center of the universe, after all.

Nevertheless, he wasn't unhappy to leave the Hall, Ron and Hermione just behind him, after having eaten his meal as quickly as his stomach allowed him. He sensed Ron's vague frustration at having to abandon the last half of his lemon cake, and Hermione's understanding look heavy upon him, as they went back to Gryffindor, but Severus' absence definitely bothered him, even more so since it was so obvious.

Back in the tower, though, his friends didn't give him time to wallow in his thoughts. Hermione insisted on giving him a private tutoring session in Transfiguration (very important, if you want to become and Auror, Harry, not to mention it's McGonagall's subject), until his head was about to explode, after which Ron took over with a game of chess, which Harry lost, of course. As well as the next five. For sure, triumphant return or not, Ron hadn't the least bit of compassion for Harry's pitiful chess skills.

The evening spent around the fire wore on, until Hermione finally decided to send all the students to their dormitories for 'lights out.'

"Hermione, it's still early," Ron moaned, immersed in a Quidditch magazine.

"That's not what you'll say tomorrow when I have to drag you out of bed," the girl retorted, as she shoved a few reluctant first years on their way. "And Harry needs rest as well."

"Hey, that's enough. I'm not a baby," Harry protested. The day's inactivity hadn't worn _him_ out.

"Maybe, but you have training tomorrow morning at eight," Hermione pointed out. "I don't know exactly what's involved, but if I were you, I wouldn't risk showing up without a good night's sleep."

Her observation wasn't a stupid one, and Harry had to reluctantly agree. He went to bed, a book in hand, Ron yawning as he followed without further protest.

"Mate," Ron said, once they were in bed, "if you need something, or you have a nightmare, or anything at all…you wake me, all right? I'm not Snape, but that doesn't mean I haven't known you for a bunch of years, so don't act like I haven't. Understood?"

"Understood," Harry grumbled, slightly irritated. They'd never needed to make this sort of agreement before, but maybe his new loyalty was plain enough to someone who knew him as well as Ron did, after all.

As he thought, Harry put out the light and pulled the curtains around his bed. Was Severus back in his rooms? Was he waiting for Harry, despite what he'd said? Was Voldemort trying to reach him, as Draco had warned?

Haunted by darker thoughts than he would've liked for his first night back in Gryffindor, it took him several hours to fall into an agitated sleep.

He didn't hear, then, the soft footsteps at his bedside, or the curtains being pulled aside, nor did he see the slender and lithe form sit beside him on the bed. A low voice murmured a spell, and a hand came to rest on his forehead.

"Sleep, Harry. Don't let the shadows spoil your slumber. You're back in your own territory now, my lion…"

Soundlessly, Severus withdrew two phials from his robes, and with a wave of his wand, he transferred their contents to the boy's stomach. Then, just as discreetly, he set two other potions on the bedside table.

"I'm here, Harry, right beside you. Sleep peacefully now." Pushing a strand of hair back into place, Snape stopped then to rub at his painful forearm.

Harry had avoided him the entire day, which hadn't stopped the Mark from summoning him again and again with increasing intensity as the hours went by. The boy might run from him, but it appeared he wanted Snape to be there, consciously or not. Enough to call him through their link, without Harry realizing it. And all of Dumbledore's theories and assistance had proved necessary to keep the Mark's call to a reasonable level.

Severus knew that Harry needed time, but they were going to have to train hard and seriously, if the boy were to quickly master his powers and be able to resume a normal life. A life that would allow Severus to begin the adoption process, if all went well.

A burst of affection filled him, as he watched Harry sleep, calmed by Severus' presence. These surges of tenderness never ceased to surprise and amaze him. After Lily's death, he would've never thought he'd be able to feel such emotions again. And this need to protect the boy… He shook his head, perplexed in spite of himself. Life was definitely full of twists and turns.

It was late that night when the Potions master wended his way down the staircases for his own bed. Tomorrow would be a new day, he thought, as he stretched himself out.

He wasn't aware how much so…

***

The next morning at breakfast, Harry couldn't help but feel relief, seeing Severus in his usual place, talking with Professor Slughorn as he sipped at his tea. Their glances crossed for a second, and Harry caught the slight nod the professor gave him; he answered with a quick smile, unable to hold his eyes any longer. On the other hand, Harry wasn't quite so relieved at the sight of Remus, whose eyes were eagerly seeking out Harry's. Harry'd already noticed this little game the evening before, and had deliberately avoided him. Today, though, Remus didn't seem about to let himself be ignored.

Seeing how quickly the professor seemed to be trying to finish his breakfast, Harry did the same, seized by a bad feeling. His fears were confirmed when he saw Remus excuse himself from his conversation with McGonagall, then stride purposefully for the Gryffindor table. Not waiting, Harry got up hurriedly, almost knocking over his chair, Ron and Hermione watching him questioningly. Not quickly enough, though, to avoid Remus.

"Harry, good to see you," the professor began in a low voice. "You look well. Could we talk for a moment?"

"I'm sorry," Harry stammered, not daring to look at him, "but I'm in a hurry. Maybe later."

The disappointment was clear on Remus' face, but he nodded, crestfallen, as he stepped backward. "You have training to do. I'll see you for certain this evening," he said.

"Sure," Harry confirmed, irritated. If he didn't manage to dodge him, anyway. Merlin, couldn't he have a bit of a break, time for this little matter to fade a little?

A glance toward the platform told him that Severus had also got up and was getting ready to leave by the staff door. Without hesitating any longer, Harry rushed for the corridor with a vague goodbye for Remus.

He didn't have any trouble finding Snape, who was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, watching as he came down, his neutral expression carefully controlled. After all these past weeks spent alone with Severus, Harry had almost managed to forget this so characteristic façade of his. Oh, Snape knew how to hide himself…but in spite of that, the boy had learnt how to read him, and he knew without any possible doubt that at that moment, the man was happy to see him.

"Did you rest well?" he asked in form of a greeting, as they started off for the dungeons.

"Yeah. It was strange to go back to Gryffindor," Harry replied. Just as it was strange to find himself at Severus' side, the memory of the scene in Dumbledore's office still smarting.

"I can imagine," Snape agreed. "We'll start working on Occlumency this morning, before testing your mastery of your new powers. It's imperative for you to be able to control them."

"Isn't it a bit dangerous to talk about that here?" Harry asked nervously as he glanced around him.

"Students aren't supposed to be in the corridors right now," Severus answered coldly. "And of course, at this very moment we are under a concealment charm."

"Oh," Harry said, dampened, "since when?"

"Since you joined me at the bottom of the stairs. You must learn to feel the magic around you, Harry. It's an important part of defense, and not only against the dark arts. Always stay vigilant."

"That's what Moody says," Harry murmured. "I felt something, actually, but I didn't understand it. I'll pay more attention in the future."

"It's more difficult in a place like this, where magic is everywhere," Snape admitted. "But any spell directed at you, whatever it may be, has a particular echo. Try to sense it and identify it."

Harry nodded. He still had so much to learn. He could only hope that Severus wouldn't try to instill all these notions in the same way he'd taught him Occlumency last year.

But he quickly realized that his fears were unfounded. The lessons of the summer had borne fruit, and the mutual trust that'd formed between them helped greatly with the comprehension Harry needed.

When Severus announced that the session was enough for that morning, Harry felt exhausted and elated: both by his new abilities and the possibilities they held out for him. Power, of course, but especially its mastery, now that he was understanding better how to channel it…and Snape's presence, pushing him, holding him back, encouraging him bit by bit, all along keeping a neutral and professorial attitude that was particularly comforting.

All of which made the end of the class that much more embarrassing for Harry. The lesson over, Severus would no longer have reason to keep his tone impersonal, and maybe, like Remus, he'd want to talk about Harry's recent escapades and behavior a bit more. Oddly, the idea didn't repulse Harry as much as that of facing Remus, but it didn't make him happy either. He wanted to talk to Severus, but he didn't feel able to yet.

Lost in his thoughts, his face filled with conflicting emotions, he looked up at his guardian and met the black eyes studying him. Always unfathomable, those eyes, but with that hint of warmth and calm assurance that quickly calmed Harry's fears.

Severus clearly wasn't Remus, and once again, Harry caught himself thinking how grateful he was for that.

"I'll meet you again here tomorrow, same time," Snape simply said.

"All right," Harry agreed, stupidly wishing it was tomorrow already. That feeling of power—there was something frightening about it, of course, for he still had so little control over it. But it was exhilarating, a bit like flying on a broom.

"And Harry…you know you're welcome in my rooms, anytime you like."

Without waiting for a reply, Severus turned on heel and headed for the Potions classroom, his robes swirling around him.

That day, Harry found that the afternoon, spent revising and getting ready for Quidditch practice, passed much more quickly and peacefully. And if his first Quidditch session as the Captain of the new team were a success, it was surely thanks to that little taste of freedom. Not to mention, of course, the unfailing enthusiasm of the players, and most significant of all, the new magic he felt running through his fingers, electrifying his Firebolt.

And maybe it was also because of the presence of a dark shadow in a corner of the stands. A shadow that oddly resembled a Slytherin head of house, hidden from unsuspecting eyes, but which Harry had spotted straight off. Snape was right about one thing, Harry thought; magic could be _felt_…and this particular magical signature was familiar to him.

When McGonagall had grown tired of watching over the students, well after night had fallen, the entire team finally decided to head for the dormitories, tired but happy.

"The Cup is ours this year—no doubt about it!" Ron exulted as he stowed his broom in the shed. "I'll admit I had a few doubts about your selections, but I take them all back. It's probably the best team Gryffindor's had in ages!"

"The twins are still going to be hard to replace," Harry admitted regretfully. Their decision to leave Hogwarts to start up their 'extracurricular but extremely profitable' venture, as they themselves qualified it, bothered Harry in more than one respect. But he understood their decision only too well, and the prospect of going to buy their products on the next Hogsmeade weekend helped to compensate for the inconvenience.

Except when it came to Quidditch…

"Do you think we could ask Dobby to bring us something from the kitchens?" Ron asked hopefully. "I'm dying of hunger; that little session was great, but it didn't help that we missed a meal!"

"And it must not happen again," said a falsely strict voice from behind them.

The two boys turned at the same time.

"Oh, hello, Remus," Harry said, embarrassed.

"But I agree with Mr. Weasley; this new team is superb," the professor went on with a smile. "Excellent game, Harry."

"Thanks," the boy replied, desperately trying not to meet his eyes.

"Can I invite you to dine in my new rooms? I've just settled in, but I must say they're particularly comfortable. As always, of course," the Defense professor added.

"Thanks," Harry said again, "but…the team is waiting for me, well, to celebrate our first practice. Hang around in the common room, eat some sweets, talk about maneuvers, all that. I'm Captain now, so…"

"Yes, I knew that," Remus said softly. "I understand, of course. Another time, then?"

Bloody hell, Harry said to himself, so there was no way to get out of it?

"Sure," he said with a tight smile. "See you later, Remus."

Without waiting, he took off for Gryffindor tower, leaving Ron behind him.

Feeling more ridiculous than annoyed, Harry felt obliged to quickly plan this little Quidditch celebration he'd used for an excuse. This way, he would've only half-lied, he thought. Dobby, ecstatic at the idea, undertook supplying enough food to fill the players' stomachs,

Once again, it was Hermione who had to convince the entire team and all the other Gryffindors who'd joined them to head for bed, protesting loudly despite their numerous yawns.

This time it didn't take Harry long to fall asleep, nestled up in his bed, but his dreams were no less agitated than the night before. For some reason he didn't understand, Remus was furious with him and refused to speak to him, a cloud of hostility surrounding him. Harry tried in vain to apologize, to explain to the professor that it was a horrible misunderstanding. Remus transformed into a werewolf and growled at him before running farther and father away. And above him, Severus' dark and ever-present shadow nodded and watched as the werewolf took off.

"_He's right. I'd do the same if I could."_

Despair washed over Harry, as he tried without success to get closer to Snape, seeking his comforting presence; but the hard and disappointed eyes he directed at Harry paralyzed him. Then a huge black panther leapt through the darkness to jump at him, coming between them with a howl, and Harry transformed into the cat to better confront the animal. But he felt so small, so silly facing the large cat…

Something seemed to suddenly change, though, and the clouds that'd been there since Remus had left, disappeared, and a soft warmth filled the air, chasing away the remaining shadows. The panther came nearer, purring now as it licked the cat's forehead with its hot, raspy tongue. It felt good, Harry thought, like finding himself next to the fire after a walk in the snow…and the black eyes staring at him weren't hard anymore, just tired.

Gently, the warmth got the better of Harry, and he toppled into a dreamless sleep, a slight smile on his face.

Without a word, Severus Snape got up and left the dormitory once again, hoping the boy'd be able to pass the rest of the night without nightmares.

The first thing Harry saw the next morning was the letter waiting for him, stuck to Hedwig's talons. The owl had seemed happy to seem him the night before, when Ron and Hermione had gone with him to the owlery, but that hadn't stopped Hedwig from scolding him, in her own way, for his long absence. Harry's fingers and ears still bore the marks…

This time, the owl seemed in a better mood, and contented itself with perching on Harry's shoulder, hooting softly in his ear. Not quite awake, Harry rubbed his eyes and took the envelope, giving the bird a friendly pet. The handwriting was familiar… Frowning, Harry grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and put them on.

Remus. He should've suspected. Groaning, he hesitated for a moment. He could lose the letter, or just set it aside for the moment. Why did Lupin need to be so insistent? Sighing, Harry opened the envelope.

"_Harry," _the letter began.

_"I know things haven't been easy lately, and believe me when I say I understand your feelings. Despite everything, I hope you won't forget that I'm here for you, and at Hogwarts now, if you'd like to talk to me. The password to my rooms is Full Moon. Don't' hesitate to use it._

_"Your friend,_

_"R.L."_

No, obviously Remus would never give up, Harry decided. But at least he'd not suggested another meeting. Time, he thought, just a bit of time…was that really too much to ask?

But the training session that morning, despite Snape's reassuring comments, brought forcefully home how precious time was. This time, Severus wasn't just content with testing him; he'd pushed him, again and again, in every direction, until Harry's powers were flying through the room, out of control, bouncing off the warded walls and narrowly missing destroying them. Whatever Harry tried, whatever the spell or his intention, it seemed his magic always ended up destructive, bursting violently from his wand to fill the room, charging the air with a dark energy that gave Harry goose bumps.

If Severus had found the morning productive, Harry himself was appalled. A simple _Accio_ had almost torn out an entire section of a wall, and Merlin, he'd only been aiming at a candle in a sconce attached to it. Clearly, he wasn't ready to go back to classes, despite Snape's optimism. The professor, though, seemed proud of him, but Harry couldn't help but find it a bit unhealthy, this admiration for his powers, given their origin. It wasn't his mastery, right now, that might make him worthy of praise.

Severus left the boy in front of the Great Hall, still maintaining that impassive kindness he'd assumed with his adoptive son since his departure from his rooms. Harry obviously wanted to have some space; he'd be the last one to reproach him for it. He himself had had spent his adolescence and adult life setting up a healthy barrier of welcome emptiness around him. No one had worried about respecting it, quite obviously, not when they'd needed him.

But if Harry wanted to isolate himself to have time to think, whatever form that took, he fully intended to give him the space and time he needed. Once again, he would offer the boy what no one had been gracious enough to accord to him: a private life.

This didn't keep his new Mark from aching painfully, each and every time Harry left him. Merlin, the teenager was a walking contradiction. Severus was almost relieved when, a few hours later, he felt the summoning weaken suddenly.

_Almost,_ because this change could only mean one thing: Harry had just taken his Animagus form, and given the hour, his friends couldn't be with him.

Severus could only hope that the boy would content himself with curling up by the fire, safe in the Gryffindor common room.

At the other side of the castle, Shadow was mulling over his thoughts. What was Draco up to? And especially what was he doing in the Room of Requirement? Maybe the Slytherin thought he was being discreet, but he'd not counted on the presence of the black cat and its sharpened senses. Shadow had only planned on going down the passage leading to the kitchens, to pay the house-elves a visit and maybe feast on a good bowl of tuna, when he'd noticed the teenager's stealthy shadow through the tower window. In the corridor near the Room of Requirement… Shadow had watched with interest, waiting to see the boy reappear in the next window, but he'd not shown up again. Which could only mean one thing. Draco was in the Room.

And Draco Malfoy in the Room of Requirement seemed like a very bad idea to Harry. He hesitated for an instant. It'd be best to quickly go back to the tower and talk to Snape, but the prospect of finding out what Malfoy was up to was too tempting. And after all, in this form, he was almost invisible and couldn't be caught…and maybe he wouldn't get another chance.

Staying close to the walls, Shadow stealthily crept toward the stairway, sliding silently behind the suits of armor. From here, he could no longer see the corridor, and he was still far away. He sped up quickly, determined to trap the Slytherin red-handed. Focused on his goal, he just about missed the almost familiar sound of breathing behind him, of footfalls matching his own. The suits of armor began to clink dangerously as he passed by, and in spite of his rapid pace, Shadow sensed himself being hotly pursued, followed and tracked. Unable to resist, he threw himself to the middle of the corridor, before quickly transforming and swiveling on his heels, wand brandished in the direction of the spot he'd just vacated.

Nothing. The suit of amour clanking against the wall seemed to shoot him a scornful look through its helmet, but as for the corridor itself, it was hopelessly empty.

Or nearly.

"Harry Potter…" said a suave voice from behind him.

Taken by surprise, the boy turned to face the speaker. At first glance, the young man standing before him didn't seem at all worrisome, and Harry relaxed noticeably, lowering his wand. A second look was enough to make him correct his mistake. Oh, certainly, the wizard facing him seemed completely relaxed and as natural as could be, but he appeared just a bit too old to be a Hogwarts student, and Harry couldn't recall having ever seen him before. He wasn't wearing a uniform either, but was clothed in a simple white wizarding robe.

But what really put the Gryffindor on his guard was the way the young man was looking at him. His hazel eyes had an icy and animalistic glaze that lit his entire face. Overall, the boy seemed…ferocious. There simply wasn't a different word, Harry thought. Ferocious, and ready to strike.

A thought that came to him a second too late. Without losing his air of calmness, the young man gave him a quick smile that reminded Harry of the snarl of a savage animal, before throwing himself toward him in a whirlwind of white.

_Loki_, Harry realized in a split second, _it's Loki, and he's here for me!_

His reflexes kicking in, Harry quickly pointed his wand at the animal, before changing his mind: he couldn't do that. Loki, Remus' son, his powers. He'd risk killing him!

This instant of hesitation proved to the advantage of the wolf, who jumped with all his might, aiming for the wizard's throat. His front paws struck the boy's shoulders, who rocked backward in shock, and Loki growled in triumph, his bared fangs searching for their target.

But the wolf's jaws closed on emptiness, as well as its paws, as it came to rest on the floor without its prey, which had suddenly fled.

Eyes glittering with surprise and fury, Loki stood up on four feet. In front of him, two green eyes, much too intelligent for those of a cat, confronted him, in the space of a second.

The wolf retracted its claws with what appeared to be a smile, before leaping once more for the black cat defying him just a few steps away.

The feline didn't waste any time waiting; after swiping his paws at the wolf's neck, Shadow went in the only direction possible, without caring about his destination. Flee, he had to flee, get himself to safety and find someone who could neutralize Loki without hurting him! If only Remus were there, if only Harry'd not been so stupid.

Behind him, the wolf, so much bigger and more powerful than he, was gaining ground with every passing second, making use of the large space that the corridor gave him. Shadow desperately looked around for a way to buy some time…the suits of armor! He could wend his way behind them, pressed against the walls, but Loki would be too big!

Cutting away to the side abruptly, the cat literally threw himself behind the armor, racing at full speed as he hugged the wall. As if he'd expected this, Loki, obsessed by his prey, hurled himself at the iron suits of armor, but not enough to lose ground. He ran alongside the cat, snapping with his teeth in the direction of the feline each time he had the chance.

No one seemed to have decided to come to his rescue, and Shadow felt more and more desperate as the wolf's teeth brushed at his flanks, each time missing him by less than an inch. He was going to end up reaching him, that much was inevitable. Focused on his trajectory, throwing all his strength into his flight, Harry almost didn't hear the first suit of armor fall, forcing Loki to move to the side. Thanking the saints who'd just given him an instant to get ahead, Shadow redoubled his efforts, and this time clearly heard the wolf yelp when a second suit of armor fell against him with unfailing accuracy, once again allowing the Gryffindor to gain a few strides' advantage.

But it wasn't enough, Shadow realized, as he reached another bend in the corridor. The walls in front of him were bare, no suits of armor…no protection for a cat. Loki had probably realized it too, because he heard the wolf let out a growl of triumph just behind him. Too close, much too close!

Refusing to think himself lost, his breath short, Shadow tried to summon his strength. The last of his strength, probably, he thought, as he hopelessly searched the closed doors with his eyes, and the corridor that seemed to go on forever.

"In here!" hissed a voice.

The voice seemed unpleasantly familiar, but Harry didn't waste time analyzing it. There was someone close by, and someone who wanted to come to his aid!

Not pausing for an instant, he rushed into the room that'd just been opened to his left, and, delirious with relief, he heard the heavy door close behind him. Saved! He'd been saved!

But his exaltation didn't last long. He'd scarcely stopped in the middle of the small, furniture-less room when he felt the floor disappear from beneath his feet, dragging him down into a long chute, his fall softened at the end by a cushioning spell.

Harry decided bitterly that there was definitely one thing that was true about cats; they always landed on their feet. And safe and sound…at least until now.

Around him, the bottom of the trap was round and barely more than three feet in diameter. Shadow looked up to note that he'd just suffered a fall of about thirty feet, and was surprised he didn't feel more pain from it. Sensing himself more vulnerable than ever, Harry retook his human form and tapped the inside surface with his hands. Totally smooth, and oozing of magic, surely designed to prevent any escape. He groaned. How could he've fallen into such an obvious trap?

Up above, he could hear two people talking in low voices, clearly disagreeing. After a few minutes, Loki's face appeared, the frustration etched into his fine features. Harry realized that if he couldn't escape, then Loki couldn't reach him anymore either…at least not if he wanted to be able to escape himself after dealing with Harry. He smiled. So the hunter became the hunted! The two wizards stared at each other, in a moment that seemed to last an eternity.

Loki's hair shone in the light, so transparent it seemed white. Or gray, Harry thought. It was really hard to believe that this stern and expressionless face belonged to Remus' son. Although now that he was paying attention…they truly were Remus' eyes, his forehead, and a hint of his facial shape, something about his mouth…no, it was something else, Harry decided. More like Remus after the presence of a Dementor, and whose soul had been replaced by a hostile animal. Nothing calculating, but an icy chilliness that made Harry shiver, even given the thirty feet of distance.

The face pulled back and disappeared from Harry's sight, with a last worrisome smile, and the door closed again, leaving only the echo of footsteps as he walked away. It took less than a minute, though, for the wooden door to open again with a bang, and for another face, much different than the other, to appear in the hole of the trap.

"Harry, are you all right?"

Severus, the boy realized. Severus. Letting out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding, he smiled. This time, he _had_ been saved.

"Well, I wouldn't say that, but in one piece," he replied.

There was an audible sigh of relief, before Snape recovered and straightened, eyeing him from head to foot from up above, and then glanced at the tunnel, his arms crossed on his chest.

"In one piece, really? It seems to me, though, that someone reported having seen your brain back in the Gryffindor common room," the Potions master said slowly.

"Ha ha, very funny," Harry answered, annoyed, and vaguely claustrophobic all of a sudden. "Do you intend to help me get out, or are you planning on just lecturing me from up there? Because if that's the case, I'd prefer to warn you that a werewolf is free in the school."

"I'm leaning toward the second solution, actually," Snape said without budging an inch. "As for the wolf in question, he's no longer in the school. He succeeded in leaving Hogwarts grounds."

"What? How? And how do you know that?" Harry exclaimed, relieved in spite of himself.

"Unfortunately, from a reliable source, if I know Mr. Malfoy," Snape sighed, before finally deciding to raise his wand. A length of rope appeared down into the trap, and Harry hurried to climb up, relieved to find himself out of a space in which he couldn't make the circuit in a single step.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, as he dusted himself off, all the while getting as close to Severus as possible. "He's the one I was after; I saw him go into the Room of Requirement, or just about…but I didn't see him actually go in; I ran into Loki before I could."

"Oh, it's certain that you made his task considerably easier," Snape said bitterly. "And yet it seems I had your word not to go anywhere on your own."

"I'm sorry, Severus," Harry answered sincerely. "It really was a bad set of circumstances; I would've never imagined. Merlin, I can't believe I escaped; he followed me in the corridors in his wolf form, and if it hadn't been for the suits of armor, I would've never gained those few feet that made me able to get into the room…and it doesn't help that I still don't know who called for me to come in. Anyway, I don't know if he was trying to save me or make it easier for Loki," Harry said thoughtfully.

"You must relate all of this in a more detailed and coherent manner, but as for your last question, I think it won't be too difficult to have the answer." A hand on Harry's shoulder, Snape led them from the room where Harry'd sought refuge.

He'd hardly stepped across the threshold when Harry took a jump backward, his wand in his hand. In front of him stood another wizard, whose face was far from unknown this time. But pale, paler than Harry'd ever seen it, and clearly defeated.

His presence didn't seem to surprise Severus, who took a step toward him, without letting go of Harry.

"Will it, Mr. Malfoy?"

* * *

**Hi everyone! Here we are, back from holidays with a new eventful chapter, thanks to Raewhit who travelled hundreds of kilometres with Shadow in her pocket! He also went with me in New Caledonia, and if you check my LJ on the next days you will see somes pictures of Snape on the beach (yes,yes, I did it!)**

**Thanks to all of you for the wonderful reviews, I'll make sure to answer them as soon as I recover from the time change ( 9 hours of difference between Noumea and Paris... I'm a walking zombie those days!)! I hope you liked this chapter ( I didn't remember it was so long, sorry Cyn!)**


	38. Chapter 38 Settling the Score

**Chapter Thirty-eight: Settling the Score**

"Severus, I…" Draco began, a look of defeat on his face.

The sound of voices and footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Snape raised a hand in irritation to interrupt him.

"Not now. You're both coming with me. _Now,_" he said as he pushed the two boys in the opposite direction of the voices.

The two teenagers didn't have to be urged any further, and headed for the stairway, the Potions master on their heels. As relief stole over him bit by bit, Harry cast a quick sideways glance at Draco.

The Slytherin didn't seem all that sure of himself, and Harry thought he could see his slender hands shaking slightly. That seemed fair enough under the circumstances, he thought with a slight smile. The world was upside down: Snape defending him, and Malfoy, the king of Slytherin, fearful of the wrath of his head of house! Oh yes, this was definitely fun.

Or at least it would've been if Harry hadn't got himself into this mess by wandering about on his own, disobeying Snape the way he had. His smile disappeared. The professor's obvious anger wasn't only directed at Draco, after all.

Lost in his thoughts, he jumped when a figure suddenly appeared from a hidden doorway in front of them. An instant later, Harry sighed: no, he had nothing to fear from this apparition.

"My boys, I'm glad to see you," Dumbledore said softly. "Severus, I assume everything's all right?"

"I'm taking Misters Malfoy and Potter to my rooms for a little discussion. If you have no objections, of course," he added.

"Certainly not. You'll inform me of what comes out of this meeting, won't you?"

"Of course. Any word on our unwanted guest?" Snape asked.

"I'm afraid not; he was able to get away and Disapparate quickly without us being able to track him," Dumbledore replied apologetically.

"I hope I'll be able to give you more information in a few moments," Severus said with a pointed look at Draco, who paled a bit more still, if that were possible.

"Good, I'll wait for your news," Dumbledore agreed as he stepped back to let them pass. The head of Slytherin nodded, taking the teenagers by their shoulders again and then continued them on their way.

The Slytherin dungeons had never seemed so reassuring to Harry, and it was clear that Darco, for his part, was more apprehensive with each step that brought them closer to Snape's rooms.

Seeing his reaction when they stepped across the threshold into the Potions master's rooms, it was clear he was familiar with the place, and Harry felt a twinge of jealousy. Hadn't Malfoy called Snape 'Severus' just a few minutes before?

The professor pointed them to the sitting room, and the two boys each took an armchair as far away from each other as possible. A few moments later, two glasses drifted toward them to sit on the low table, and a heavy silence fell.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape drawled, "explain to me, then, what good reason you had for being precisely in that place at that moment, right in the middle of an attack, when your presence was required in Transfigurations, at the other end of the castle?"

Draco fidgeted nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, Severus, it's not what you think," he started.

_Severus? _Harry thought. Malfoy was permitted to call his Man In Black 'Severus'? But surely Snape was going to put him in his place.

"For now, Draco, I believe you're guilty of attempted murder in the middle of Hogwarts, at the very least," Severus replied icily, putting Harry's illusions to rest. Yes, Snape and Draco were on a first name basis. It was absolutely revolting.

But that probably wasn't the most important thing just now.

"I…nothing happened, all right, and I saved Potter; it's not as if I tried to cast an _Avada Kedavra_ at him!" the Slytherin defended himself.

"Indeed, I didn't expect your courage to extend as far as that fantasy. Letting a murderer into Hogwarts, on the other hand…" Severus said.

Draco practically folded in on himself, and Harry knew that Snape had hit the mark.

"The Room of Requirement!" Harry cried. "He was in the Room of Requirement, right before Loki attacked me!"

"Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, the use of his last name painting a satisfied smile on Harry's face.

There ensued a long silence.

"I see," Snape said slowly. "It will be Veritaserum, then. Take the glass in front of you, Draco."

"No!" the boy exclaimed. "That's illegal."

"Illegal? No, not in the sort of inquiry conducted by Aurors. And if that's what needs to be done, let's call the Ministry immediately, then. Attempted murder in the school, against the person of Harry Potter…that wouldn't even mean Azkaban. I suspect the Dementors would come personally to the Ministry to execute the sentence on the spot."

Opposite him, Draco seemed ready to sick up, his face twisted.

"Severus, you can't do that to me…"

"Really? And yet, in a recent letter it seemed to me that our respective positions were made clear."

"I…you shouldn't have come back; I don't have a choice, Severus; he's not giving me a choice."

Wordlessly, he bared his left forearm, exposing the Mark. Harry couldn't hold back a shudder, but Snape didn't show the slightest emotion. In fact, he seemed rather bored.

"Very pretty tattoo, Draco. I'm sure you were very proud to receive it."

"Oh, no need to be so arrogant; you have the same thing in the very same place, so far as I know!" Malfoy hissed between his teeth. "And you know very well what this means…I don't have a choice!" His voice was almost begging this time.

"I'd rather understand," Severus said mercilessly, "what could push a sixteen-year-old to wish for the death of one of his peers?"

_As if he doesn't know_, Harry thought with a bit of resentment. As if he hadn't wished for James's death at that same age.

"It's got nothing to do with him," Draco replied scornfully. "It's what he stands for. He must not stand in the Dark Lord's way…" he stopped, swallowing hard. Clearly, the switch in his former mentor's allegiance was a difficult reality for the boy.

"So, you acknowledge trying to kill Harry," Snape went on, his voice hard.

"I…all right, all right, I'm the one who brought Loki in. But I'm also the one who fixed it so Potter fell into that trap, so that nutter couldn't have him! He was going to kill him, Severus, in a matter of seconds. Potter didn't have a chance, and I'm the one who saved him from it!" Draco exclaimed vehemently.

The disgust Harry saw on Severus' face reassured him as much as it made Draco blanch. But there was something else in the professor's expression, like an echo…Dumbledore, Harry suddenly remembered. It was the same expression that Dumbledore had worn when Snape had presented himself to him, begging him to save Lily. History was repeating itself, Harry thought, but did Draco possess the inner strength and convictions that had allowed Snape to redeem himself? In more ways than one, Harry doubted it. And clearly, Snape doubted it as well.

"Saving him after having put him in danger of death? Nice try, Draco, but I doubt that will be enough in front of a jury," the professor replied.

At these words, Draco dropped his head into his hands, his eyes fixed on the floor. At that moment, there was no longer anything aristocratic in his bearing.

"I didn't want to do it. I don't want…I don't know. I don't know, Severus. But I didn't let him die."

This time, the Potions master seemed to soften, and uncrossed his arms to come and sit in an armchair. "Let start at the beginning," he sighed. "Who ordered you to bring Loki into Hogwarts?"

"My father," Draco answered, defeated. "On orders from the Dark Lord. He told me it was the only way for him to redeem himself."

"Redeem himself?" Severus asked.

"After what happened in the cemetery at Godric's Hollow, all the Death Eaters who'd been there were…severely punished," he explained. "For failing at their duty. A dozen Death Eaters, and the wards, and it'd only taken a single person to ruin it," he said disgustedly, shaking his head. "He was crazed, Severus, mad with fury. I don't know what happened afterward, I only know he disappeared into the wilds, withdrew to someplace safe. But Father's position is difficult, both at the Ministry because of the kidnapping, and with the Dark Lord because of the escape. It was a bloody disaster," the boy sighed.

His little speech plunged Harry deep into thought. Draco was right: Lucius had kidnapped him, right from the middle of the Ministry. So how was it that the wizard wasn't in prison yet?

"Lucius claimed to have acted under Imperius," Snape explained to him before he could ask the question. "But given the circumstances, even his most faithful supporters within the Ministry can't defend him without seeming like perfect morons."

"There's not a soul alive who was fooled, not even the Niffler on guard duty," Draco hissed. "And now, the Dark Lord's threatening to destroy all we have left…and Severus, I don't have any choice; he'll kill us all."

Snape took a deep breath as he sat back comfortably in his chair. "You don't have a choice, but yet you saved Harry at the last moment, as you pointed out. Why this change of heart?"

"I don't want to be a murderer," Draco huffed. "And I don't want to end up in Azkaban; I saw what Bellatrix was like when she got out, and I don't know what she was like before, but it's certainly not a ringing endorsement."

"No, indeed," Severus said thoughtfully.

Harry could sense that the professor was slightly amused, and particularly focused on something. Clearly it was a serious moment. Had Draco made Snape think of himself at that same age? It was likely, but Harry hoped with all of his heart that this wasn't the case, because Snape would be greatly mistaken. Draco wasn't anything like he had been; he was a pretentious little aristocrat, and much too spoiled, a teenager who'd never had to face his responsibilities, who was now discovering the truth about things and the cause he defended. In all of that, there was nothing that could make him like Snape.

"Draco, do you know where Voldemort is right now?" Severus asked.

"No," the boy replied quickly, "and even if I knew…" He stopped, glancing quickly at his glass. "Our family is no longer in the Dark Lord's favor. I doubt that even Lucius knows."

"Draco," Snape said, clearly annoyed, "you're going to have to choose sides eventually. You cannot allow yourself to play them both. Do you realize the situation you've put yourself in?"

"All too well," Draco murmured without looking at him.

"Let's begin again," Severus sighed. "How did you get Loki inside Hogwarts?"

"Like Potter said, through the Room of Requirement. There's a tunnel that leads to Hogsmeade. We had a meeting time set up."

"And how did you know that Harry would be there?"

"I didn't know," Draco confessed. "I was just supposed to get this…Loki in. He was to take care of Potter, or…whatever else he'd find."

"Meaning?" Snape asked icily.

"I don't exactly know," Malfoy said, avoiding his eyes.

"Draco, answer me. Who else?" His tone of voice didn't leave much room for negotiation, and Draco took a deep breath and finally looked up.

"You. He was supposed to kill Potter first, and then you afterward. Dumbledore was also an option, or as a last resort, any Gryffindor or Hufflepuff," he admitted.

"I see," Snape said, lost in thought. "So, I've a certain value in the marketplace, people to put on my list. What else, Draco?"

"You don't think that's enough?" the boy asked bitterly.

Snape studied him for a moment, his eyes searching the boy's, until the teenager finally lowered his own.

"What do you plan to do now?" Snape asked neutrally.

"I should be asking you that instead," the boy ground out. "Are you going to call the Aurors?"

"That depends on you, I suppose," the Potions master replied. "You first carried out Voldemort's orders before changing your mind and saving his worst enemy. At the least your loyalty seems shaky, a thing that I can perfectly understand. I suppose the reality of being a Death Eater never seemed so concrete to you before, did it?"

"That's an understatement," Draco breathed out.

"And the winds of defeat blow…a true Malfoy always knows on which side to put himself," Snape went on smoothly.

"It's not a matter of defeat, Snape!" Draco exclaimed. "The Dark Lord is powerful; this isn't a setback that'll change anything! He'll end up taking him…"

"You're convinced of that?" Severus asked.

"Of course," the boy replied. But even Harry could sense the doubt in his voice.

"Perhaps he doesn't know?" Harry almost whispered at Severus, still loud enough for Malfoy to hear him.

The professor shot him an irritated look before turning back to the other teenager. "Draco, what do you know about why Voldemort is lying low recently?"

"Lying low?" the boy scoffed. "That's just a joke. He's simply planning his next move, away from his usual Death Eaters. I told you, he really wasn't happy about what happened at the cemetery."

"Really?" Severus insisted. "And you've seen him since that fateful night?"

Draco shrugged. "No, and neither has practically anyone else."

"And it didn't occur to you that there was perhaps a reason for that?" Snape asked ironically. It was Draco's turn to look at him in annoyance.

"A Death Eater isn't supposed to ask that sort of question," he said.

"And that's what you are? A Death Eater?" Snape asked softly.

Harry held his breath, and Draco jumped from his chair.

"What's the point of these stupid questions? Obviously I am one—you saw it yourself!" he protested.

"It's not a dead-end, Draco," Severus answered, still maintaining his calm demeanor.

"Not a dead-end? Do you think you're free because you betrayed the Dark Lord? No one escapes him, Severus. There's no way out!"

"And yet, here you are, doing all you can to disobey your master and thwart his plans…the way you saved Harry at the last moment, Draco? What were you after, if it wasn't a way out?"

"I didn't…wait, you know very well it's the only real solution!" Malfoy went on, increasingly nervous with each sentence.

"No, I don't know it," Snape replied. "I'm even convinced of the contrary."

"Not everyone is able to be a traitor," the boy hissed.

Harry felt Severus stiffen immediately. The remark had hit home.

"Whatever I've done," Severus finally said, "I've always done from the strength of my convictions. And whatever you decide today, Draco Malfoy, you're going to have ponder it. How did Loki react when he saw Harry get away from him?"

"Badly," the boy said, making a face. "I tried to convince him that I'd done it to make his task easier. Don't know if he takes me for an imbecile or a traitor. I think he was leaning toward the first when he left."

"Left?" Severus repeated.

"He went back through the Room of Requirement, the same way he got in. I didn't go with him; he'd taken his other form…was too fast for me," Draco admitted.

"And so he probably headed right back to whomever he'll have to give an account, if not Voldemort himself," Snape concluded.

"I don't know," Draco said. "Maybe Loki is the Dark Lord's favorite new toy, but I doubt he reports to just anyone. He's not like the others…he's a…savage."

For a moment, Severus stared off into space, tapping his cheek with a finger. A silent but attentive spectator, Harry could sense the professor's curiosity. And instant later, though, Severus shook himself from his trance and turned to his Slytherin student once again.

"Is he Marked?" he asked. Draco hesitated for an instant before replying.

"No, I told you, he's different. Independent. That's not really it, but I can't find the right word. He seems indifferent to everything, he always has this sort of smile that chills me to the bone; he's not really a Death Eater, more like a mercenary, but he does a great deal for the cause."

"And for what reason?"

"I don't know," Malfoy replied as he shook his head. "But in any case, I want him for an enemy just about as much as I want Greyback for one. He's…terrifying. And he's not afraid of anything, not even the master."

"Here we have the most interesting genetic enigma in years," Snape murmured, as if to himself, then casually asked after an instant, "So, what is your plan, Draco?"

The Slytherin straightened, defying his head of house with his eyes. But no response was forthcoming, and a small, cynical smile appeared on Severus' face.

"Ah well, Mr. Malfoy, let's consider your possible career choices for a moment. In truth, the options are rather limited. A first possibility, of course, is returning to Malfoy Manor and telling Lucius that your mission failed, and how so. No doubt Loki will have got there ahead of you anyway. It remains to be seen if Malfoy Senior will be as gullible as the timber wolf…and curiously, I doubt it."

In front of him, Draco swallowed hard but didn't look down.

"So, Lucius will be left with the choice of supporting his son or selling him to Voldemort," Snape continued mercilessly. "Hmmm. A situation that I definitely wouldn't want to face. Which do you think he'll choose, Draco?"

"Don't be stupid," the boy said between his teeth. "He won't sell me out."

"Indeed, probably not," Severus agreed. "Which leaves the option of being disgraced in front of his master. An equally unenviable position in these times."

"He'll find a way," Draco said. "He always finds one."

"Perhaps," the professor answered, "or perhaps not. However, there remains another option, and I've the distinct impression, Draco, that it's the one you've already chosen."

This time, the teenager couldn't bear the eyes of his questioner.

"You could ally yourself to the side of the Light, and quit the Death Eater ranks," Snape said softly. "You can't be a part of them, Draco, you know this as well as I. The dregs of power that Voldemort holds out to them are only an illusion—bait—out of proportion to what you give up. You are not a hero, you're only a slave in the service of a madman; you're no longer a part of the Malfoy line, you're a pawn. A commodity."

At his words, Draco's face contorted with fury, and he leapt to his feet, wand in his hand, pointing it at the Potions master. Although Snape made no motion to stop him, it only took a second for Shadow, on the other hand, to jump to the low table and force himself between the two wizards, growling in the boy's direction.

Surprised, Draco dropped his guard, his eyes riveted on the cat.

Shadow felt a hand on his back, and the fur that had stood up on end relaxed, pacified.

"It's all right, Harry," Snape said gently.

With a backwards glance for his Man In Black, Shadow reluctantly stood down from his stance and went back to the chair, where he transformed as Malfoy watched, his lips pressed together.

"Draco, give me your wand," Severus continued.

The boy turned his head, but didn't make any move to obey.

"You know that I'm right," the professor went on. "And you know he won't win this war."

"How long…" Draco began hesitantly. "How long have you been betraying our side?"

"Since the Potters' deaths," Snape replied calmly. But Harry could feel the wave of sadness that washed through the wizard with this pronouncement. Lily's death…

"And all that time, you were spying for Dumbledore? You knew…you knew…and you didn't do anything to stop me?" the boy said, his jaw clenched.

With this, Harry was sure he saw his hand tremble. And when he turned toward Severus, he could see the regret and guilt in his eyes.

"It was impossible, Draco," he said. "I knew you would've reported me to your father, and my situation was too delicate to take that risk."

"You preferred to risk letting me become one of them…and like you said, a slave! This Mark…he…I belong to him!"

Severus sighed and shook his head. "You made your choices, Draco. But today you made another one; you can change everything. It's now or never, and you've already taken a huge step forward. I know how difficult it is to renounce one's choices, but listen to your conscience, Draco. It's already pointed you in the right direction."

"I don't want to become a spy, Severus; I'm not like you. I could never do it," Malfoy replied nervously as he sat again. "It's not that I'm not a good Occlumens, but it's about my mother and father! And Dumbledore will never believe me anyway. He already wouldn't have believed me before, but now with this Mark on my arm…"

"It so happens that I bear the same one, as you correctly pointed out," Snape said. "And it's not a matter of convincing the Headmaster. After all, it's Harry's life you put in danger today; it's for him to decide if you deserve another chance or not."

Draco started, as if he'd only just now remembered Harry's presence. With the two Slytherins staring at him, Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. His eyes sought out Malfoy's, trying to decipher the boy's intentions.

The gray eyes didn't try to look away, but Harry only read resignation there, a hint of fear and despair, and the very clear impression of being trapped like a rat.

Draco wasn't really trying to champion a cause, he realized. He wanted to be safe, out of danger, far from the realities he'd discovered in the life of a Death Eater.

It wasn't that hard to feel pity for Draco just then, and he could sense that Severus didn't want to let him go back to his master. But this was Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, he whom everyone smiled upon, and who wouldn't have lifted his little finger to help Harry, had the situation been reversed. And besides…

"What was in it, that letter?" he asked slowly. "Severus mentioned a letter earlier."

Draco turned a panicked expression to the Potions master.

"It was a warning, Severus! For you. If Father had known I'd sent it, I would've had serious problems," he pleaded.

"So why take the risk, Draco?" Snape asked.

"So you wouldn't come back! To protect you!"

"And?" Severus insisted.

The boy flushed and looked away.

"There's something else, isn't there?" the professor continued. "We must know everything, Draco; there's no other solution."

"If I tell you, I'm dead," Malfoy whispered.

"Not if we protect you. It's your last chance, Draco. You can't do an about-face now."

"There's a reason why Father didn't send me to Durmstrang this year," the boy said in a low voice. "The Dark Lord entrusted me with a mission at Hogwarts." He stopped, before beginning again frantically, "You have to protect me. I can't go back there after having revealed all this.!"

"First finish what you have to say," Harry threatened. Something told him that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear at all.

"I…I have to prove myself. Spy. Help…all that I can. But especially, I have to bring him someone's head…" Draco said nervously.

"Mine?" the Gryffindor asked.

"No. That'd be a bonus, but the Dark Lord doesn't expect me to manage that."

"Who, then?" Harry insisted.

Draco stared studiously at the low table. "Severus."

Silence settled over the room, at last broken by the Potions master.

"That's rather logical," he said impassively, "a traitor, but only recently, close to Harry Potter, and a man you've always known. A good choice, all things considered."

"How could you think he'd let you get away like that?" Draco exploded. "Of course you had to come back, right into the middle of the Slytherins! And with him!" he said with a gesture toward Harry.

"And you," Harry interrupted, his voice low and full of fury, "how could you think you could come here, try to kill Severus and hope to get away with it? How?"

Draco shot him a hesitant look, before speaking again. "You've no idea how it is, Potter! I wasn't given a choice, it was that or die, and watch my family die! I tried to warn him, that's why I sent that letter! You've no idea of the risks I took by doing it, not to mention saving your skin earlier!"

Harry clenched his teeth, trying to contain his fury. The dirty little snake…and to think he'd been here, all this time, his only goal to kill Severus! And he was here now, trying to secure his absolution, and Snape was sitting there, not saying anything, as if all of it wasn't important. It seemed to Harry that all of a sudden the air had just become charged with electricity, and the glasses on the table began to shake, rattling in chorus with the chandelier and a crystal carafe.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Severus rise and come to him, before placing a hand on his forehead, ruffling his hair.

"That's enough, Harry," the Potions master's calm voice told him. "Get a hold of yourself. Everything's fine."

"No, everything's not fine!" he boy cried. "He's sending assassins after you! Even here, at Hogwarts!"

"As for killing," Snape said sarcastically, "Voldemort would've certainly been able to find someone more formidable than Draco Malfoy. I doubt he expects him to succeed. It was more of a test…and of having a spy in place."

"You still think of Malfoy like he's a choirboy!" Harry protested. "Don't you have enough proof? He's a Death Eater! And that wasn't just some whim that came over him either; he's always wanted it—it's what he is!"

"I doubt that Mr. Malfoy himself knows what he is," Snape replied gently. "But I'm very aware of Draco's shortcomings. No one is perfect, Harry, but everyone deserves a second chance at some point."

Harry shook his head, refusing to look the Potions master in the eye. It was Draco who broke the silence and went to stand near Harry, a determined look on his face.

"If I go back there now, they'll kill me," he said hoarsely. "Is that what you want, Potter?"

"You'll find a way around it, like you always do," Harry said without looking at him.

Draco hissed from between his teeth, and Severus took Harry by the shoulders and forced him to look at him.

"Perhaps he would, but certainly not without being punished first," he said. "Do you really want to live with that image, Harry? And that's not even the most important thing here. Draco took the first step to change and join us, to leave Voldemort. Whether you believe it or not, that takes a great deal of courage. Do you really want me to send him back to his master, make him a full-fledged Death Eater, and then one day perhaps find him in your path? Is that truly a good strategy?"

Put like that, Harry supposed not. And as much as he might hate Draco, even _he_ didn't deserve to be sent back to Voldemort. There was no doubt that he'd wanted to become a Death Eater at one time, but people changed.

Harry stared for a moment at Snape's serene face. Yes, people changed.

He turned to Draco, trying to keep his face impenetrable as well. He certainly had a long way to go before he managed to do it as well as Snape, though.

"The other day in Moaning Myrtle's toilet, what were you doing?"

Severus scrutinized them both questioningly, but Harry didn't say more. Draco, on the other hand, flushed furiously.

"I'd just come from meeting Loki. There was a problem, and he blamed me. Someone summoned him and he left without me having the chance to get him in," he reluctantly explained.

"Summoned him? How?" Severus asked.

"There was someone with him—I don't know who. Probably someone who'd hidden near the Shrieking Shack, but I was too busy trying to stay alive to pay attention."

"And despite everything, you went back to let him in?" Snape said slowly.

Draco shook his head. "I told you, I don't have a choice. He's got my parents."

"Which doesn't leave us many alternatives," the professor admitted.

"Honestly, I couldn't care less what happens to Lucius," Harry muttered with a shudder. "But if we want Draco to be safe, then maybe it'd be better to claim he's a prisoner, that he's being blamed for helping Loki."

"That's a reasonable idea," Snape said, nodding. Confusedly, Harry sensed the Potions master's relief, and knew he'd made the right choice. The one Severus wanted, anyway.

"I can't stay a prisoner forever," protested Draco, who seemed nevertheless to relax. "Father will try to claim me, to have the Ministry step in."

"But he carries little weight there just now, and I assume he'll quickly understand your situation," Severus agreed. "Honestly, I doubt he'll put much at all into acquiring you, once he will have understood. Your life would be in too much danger."

The young Slytherin swallowed hard. "He's probably going to disown me."

"Probably, yes," Severus admitted. "But only for the sake of appearance. Whatever Lucius Malfoy might be…he loves you deeply. As soon as he has the opportunity, he'll come for you."

"Pardon me, but I've never had much of a feeling that Lucius is the sort to do things halfway," Harry protested, the pictures of Malfoy Manor and the cemetery still too fresh in his memory.

Snape nodded. "Lucius is the perfect Death Eater, but his family comes first," he explained. "Besides, I suspect he won't be completely displeased with this little twist in the situation."

From a few steps away, Draco groaned. "A strategy like none other. Very Slytherin. But you're probably right, Severus," he said, his face brightening.

"I'm not sure I understand," Harry said distrustfully.

"Having their only son on our side, the Mafoy family is placing its pawns in both camps. Whoever turns out the victor, they'll have an argument to plead for their return to favor, whichever party that might be," Snape explained.

"That's disgusting," Harry said slowly, on the verge of being sick. "Totally disgusting. Where's the proof that this isn't exactly what this little snake wants? He cares about as much for our cause as for his first broom!"

"To be perfectly honest, I doubt Draco had sufficient nerve for this little scenario," Severus replied. Behind him, Draco snorted scornfully, but didn't deny it.

Harry shook his head in disgust. "I suppose it's the best option for now," he said.

"Probably."

Holding back a grimace, the Gryffindor turned to his rival. "It'd be better for you if this isn't another one of your little schemes, Malfoy."

"It isn't. I'm trapped, Potter, even you should be able to see that," Draco ground out.

"That'll be enough for the moment. We're going to settle this in the Headmaster's office. Harry, you're coming with us," Snape said, pointing toward the door.

"Can't we go through the Floo?" Draco asked nervously.

"No. The students are in the hallways at this time of day; this little walk will be an excellent display of the current situation."

"Oh, I see. So far as being a prisoner, obviously," Draco said through his teeth.

"Yes, that's the general idea," Severus replied. "And now, your wand."

Draco started, his hand going reflexively to rest on his wand, but without drawing it.

"No, you can't ask me that!"

"It's the first condition, Draco. Give me your wand immediately," Snape said calmly.

"You didn't think we were going to let you stroll through Hogwarts armed, when you yourself admitted you were here to kill Severus, "Harry hissed, feeling his anger mounting again.

"That's enough, Harry," the professor said sternly. "Draco, _now."_

There was a second of silence during which Harry wondered if the Slytherin was going to change his mind in the end and try to flee, but Draco slowly took his wand and held it out to Snape.

"That's a wise decision, Draco," the professor said as he placed it inside his robes. Harry heard the relief in his words.

Severus took a step back to let them pass, and Draco moved forward, his face drawn. Before he was able to reach the door, though, Harry was beside him and pulled him back by his sleeve.

"Just one wrong look at Severus, Malfoy, and I'll make you regret it," the Gryffindor hissed. "You've no idea how much."

Before the boy was able to retort back, Harry'd stepped out of his way and headed for Snape. An instant later, a black cat with slightly bristled fur jumped to the Potions master's shoulder.

The wizard shot him a dark, reproachful look, but didn't say a word as they moved toward the corridor, with Malfoy in front of them, under the threat of his head of house's obsidian wand.

The hallways were definitely in use at this hour, and Harry quickly decided that having been pursued by an enraged wolf was a small price to pay for the sight. Head held high, Draco passed through the midst of the Slytherins without batting an eye or looking back once, all under the piercing and sometimes mocking stares of his friends. True to their reputation, the Slytherins did nothing to spare their fallen icon…a few jeers and hisses could be heard, and Shadow's sharp ears caught a few little, fervent remarks. "Really deserved it…not a moment too soon…traitor…not so proud anymore…just like his father…imbecile…Death Eater…"

But his satisfaction quickly faded as he noted that most of the hateful looks weren't directed at Malfoy, but towards him and Snape, who continued on his way impassively.

The trip along the upper floors, though, was more boisterous. The rumor seemed to have rapidly spread, and students from all houses had gathered to watch the spectacle. And Malfoy was clearly not any more popular with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws than he was with the Gryffindors, Harry noticed. The farther they walked, the further the rumor spread, the louder the jeering became, and Snape was soon forced to level some menacing looks, here and there, to quell the general hubbub.

Shadow gloated from atop his shoulder. At least until a spell streaked out of the crowd, narrowly missing Draco, who jumped to the side as his hand instinctively went for his wand.

Snape swore and cast a Protego around himself and Malfoy, who'd stepped in close to him, while the students surrounding them fervently looked for the guilty party. Without waiting, Severus pushed Draco by the shoulder.

"Whoever attempted that will have to answer to me, you can be sure of it," Snape hissed as he eyed the group of students. "And now, disperse! You're not at a parade! Any idiots that I catch still lingering in the corridor in ten seconds will have to do an essay on the properties of manticore eyes in Evisceration Potion!"

There was a dull murmuring amongst the students, and all of them started for the nearest exit. At least, almost all of them.

"There're no manticore eyes in Evisceration Potion, Professor," a voice said calmly.

"Miss Granger," Snape growled, "are you volunteering yourself?"

"There's no Evisceration Potion either," the girl went on.

"There very well could be one in the very near future if you're not gone in the next instant!" Snape replied as he started off again. Atop his shoulder, the cat shot a look full of sympathy at his friend.

"Professor, can I help you?" Hermione finally decided to ask. "Do you want me to take Harry somewhere else? Or me to escort you?"

"Merlin, might I know what could lead you to believe I need an escort?" Snape asked, clearly irritated.

"I don't exactly know," Hermione answered honestly. "But a wolf was spotted in Hogwarts a few minutes ago, and I ran across Professor Lupin and he seemed beside himself. If Hogwarts is under attack again, I think Harry'd be the first target, and you seem to already have your hands full. Without meaning any offence, Professor."

"I'm in complete control of the situation, Miss Granger, and no, Hogwarts was not under attack. Or not any longer, at least. As for Professor Lupin, I don't see what else you might expect of a werewolf. Mood swings are part of its personality."

The girl tensed her jaw, but didn't move. "Whichever, Professor, with your permission…"

"With my permission, you're going to return to your common room," Snape said ironically, ignoring the sharp claws digging through his robes. "And without delay, if you don't want me to take points from your house."

Hermione's lips thinned to a white line. "As you wish, Professor. I only hope Professor Lupin will find Loki. He's very busy looking for him right now."

Snape let out an annoyed sigh. "Very well, Miss Granger, make yourself useful and go find the werewolf on duty. Tell him to come up to the Headmaster's office straight away. I wonder why that imbecile isn't there already anyway…incapable of following orders, like always."

The girl stiffened, but nodded. "Harry, are you all right?"

The black cat blinked, his head cocked to the side in what signaled his best smile. Hermione smiled back at him, before finally deciding to go on her way. She disappeared at the end of the hallway, two sets of annoyed Slytherin eyes watching her.

"That girl really has to learn to mind her own business," Draco muttered.

"That's for certain," Severus replied. "But that wasn't Miss Granger's intent. No matter, let's move on; it's senseless to linger in the corridors. Your fans seem to have gone, Mr. Malfoy."

Without a word, the boy started off again, the disgust clear on his face, and Snape could've sworn he heard the cat on his shoulder titter a laugh.

The rest of their trip was without incident, and the three wizards entered the Headmaster's office; he was solemnly waiting for them in front of the fireplace.

"Well, well," he said when Draco Malfoy went to stand in front of him, slightly dragging his feet. "Here we have a matter that goes beyond house affiliations, don't we, Severus?"

"Considering that attempted murder is part of it, yes," the head of Slytherin answered.

"Oh, really? Mr. Malfoy?"

"That's not it at all; I wasn't trying to kill anyone," Draco protested. "And I'd like you to remember that I saved Potter, once and for all!"

"This promises to be interesting," Dumbledore replied calmly. "If you'll sit down, young man?"

Assuming a dignified expression, Draco gracefully took a seat in the nearest armchair. At his side, Snape crossed his arms over his chest and remained standing, to Shadow's great delight, giving him a front row seat for the show.

It took Draco only a few minutes to give an account of the incident, and for Severus to explain the arrangement in question. But to Harry's surprise, the Headmaster didn't seem particularly happy with the idea.

"Really, Severus, I don't know if that's reasonable," he said slowly.

"Reasonable?" Snape repeated icily. "You'd prefer to send Draco back to the Dark Lord?"

"I didn't say that," Dumbledore said with a conciliatory gesture. "But your idea of making Mr. Malfoy stay at Hogwarts seems, at the least, risky. After all, he's just confessed to having sent a wolf to kill one of his classmates."

"And what do you recommend?" Snape ground out.

"The crime is serious; it seems that expulsion would be the least of measures to be taken in these circumstances, even though it's obviously out of the question to send young Draco back to his master…or in this case, to his parents."

"Oh really?" Severus said, his voice suddenly much too calm. Shadow felt his heart begin to beat faster. There was something terribly bitter and heated about the sudden anger that'd filled the Man In Black. "Ah well, it seems this case has already occurred in the annals of Hogwarts, and under your rule, Headmaster. A student sent by another to certain death in a wolf's den—does that remind you of something?"

It seemed to Shadow that the Headmaster started, his shoulders stiff all of a sudden.

"Severus, this is something entirely different, and in the case you're citing, the tragedy was averted by someone close to the troublemaker."

"Draco also avoided tragedy by saving Harry at the last moment," Snape said smoothly. "As for myself, I see quite a bit of similarity between the two matters. If my memory serves me, none of the guilty parties in that first case were expelled from Hogwarts."

Shadow gave a start. So that was it…Dumbledore's unhappy eyes, the spark of challenge in Snape's. Severus was using his own history to save Draco.

"There is nevertheless a difference," the Headmaster said at last. "The Mark, Severus. Mr. Malfoy, if I've understood correctly, bears it."

"He's not the only one in this case," Snape retorted. "And once again, I believe a comparison would be very interesting. Or would it just be a question of houses? That a head of house would favor his own seems relatively justifiable, but what of the Headmaster of the school, Albus? Aren't you supposed to treat them all impartially?"

"Severus," Dumbledore warned, "your insinuations are inappropriate and unfounded. All the students of this school are treated in like manner, regardless of their house. This is a serious matter, putting one or more students' lives in danger, a deliberate and premeditated attack!"

Snape didn't answer, and contented himself with staring at the Headmaster, his eyes full of challenge and the hint of a smile on his face. Several seconds passed, the two professors eyeing each other while their students held their breaths.

It was Dumbledore who lowered his eyes first, and then sighed.

"What exactly do you think should be done next, Professor? You're in agreement with me, though, that Mr. Malfoy's actions cannot go unpunished."

"Insofar that he cannot return to his Slytherin friends, no," Severus admitted, clearly satisfied with his small victory. Shadow could sense that he was mollified now, and also calmer. After all, the victory probably wasn't as small as all that, he thought.

"I suggest that Draco stay in the dungeons as a prisoner for now," Snape continued. "Under the competent guard of Mr. Filch, as well as the other heads of house."

At his words, Draco started and shot Snape a look of desperation.

"The dungeons, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, surprised. "They've not held a permanent resident for a very long time; they're certainly habitable, but I doubt they'll serve as a healthy long-term environment."

"A week," Snape cut in. "That way we'll have time to handle both the Ministry and the Malfoy family, and decide what steps to take next."

"Severus, this is a joke. I'm not staying in that despicable cave for a week!" Draco cried out indignantly, after having carefully kept his tongue during the deliberations.

"Must I remind you, Mr. Malfoy, that you tried to have a student killed?" Snape asked coldly. "Have you forgotten my little welcome speech on this matter? No? That's what I hoped. Now you're going to face the consequences, whether you like them or not. And whatever you might think of Slytherin solidarity, never forget the fundamental rule: the interests of the one cease where the interests of the others begin. A valuable lesson, believe me, and that's only the beginning."

Draco's glance hovered for an instant between the professor's black eyes and the mirthful green ones of the cat. The surprise and betrayal were clear on his face, and Shadow felt a gentle warmth fill him. Severus had defended Draco, yes, but he was still going to make him pay for his attack against him.

Standing beside them, Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose that all that's left for me to do is to owl the Malfoy family. Lucius will want to take his son, of course."

"And the Ministry must be called," Snape finished. "Which is inevitable in this case. As for…"

The door to the office was thrown open, and the four wizards turned to watch a disheveled Lupin come in, out of breath and clearly crazed with worry.

"Is he here? Did you find him?" he quickly asked.

"Perhaps it'd be best to summon Argus before continuing this conversation," Snape suggested.

"A wise idea," Dumbledore agreed as he motioned for Remus to sit, before heading for the Floo. A moment later, Argus Filch stepped into the office, seeming gleeful.

"Where is he? Where is he? Ahhhh!" he said when he spotted Malfoy, then rubbed his hands together. "Come here, you! To the dungeon, my boy, Uncle Argus is going to keep an eye on you, oh how I am!"

Draco got up slowly, not without one last desperate look toward his head of house. But Snape was unmoved, and the boy, who seemed to have shrunk a good five inches, followed the caretaker to the Floo.

Filch stepped in after him with a low laugh, obviously happy, and the green flames closed around them, leaving a huge silence in the office.

It was predictable that Remus would be the one to break it.

"Do you have any news?" he asked urgently, his hands nervously twisting in his threadbare jacket.

Snape shot him a scornful look, putting another step between the two of them.

"I'm sorry, Remus," Dumbledore said gently, "I'm afraid that Loki left immediately after being discovered."

"But it's possible that he…well, I followed his tracks, his scent, and it was very strong in several places."

"Draco Malfoy allowed him to enter and leave through the Room of Requirement," the Headmaster explained, "but he's had over an hour to flee."

"Merlin," the werewolf sighed, then turned his eyes to Shadow. "Harry, are you all right? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

The growl from Snape's throat cut short any answer. "You perfect little imbecile! I thought you were supposed to control that animal! I thought this sort of attack was to never happen again."

"See here, Severus, be reasonable," Dumbledore began. But the two wizards ignored him, and Remus staggered to his feet.

"I'm _so_ sorry, I didn't have time, I didn't know he was still getting ready to… Oh, Merlin, I beg your forgiveness, Harry; I assure you I'll do all I can to stop him. The next time he's here…"

"The next time!" Snape bellowed, his rage painting red spots on his cheeks. "If that beast ever sets foot in Hogwarts again, or comes within ten feet of Harry, I'll kill him before he has the chance to open his mouth."

With these words, Shadow jumped to the ground and transformed.

"No, Severus, please!" he begged. "I could've defended myself earlier when he jumped at me, but I didn't want to risk hurting him; Remus has to have a chance."

But the boy quickly realized that this hadn't been a good thing to say. If Snape had been furious before, it was nothing compared to the waves of rage he felt rolling off the Potions master.

Severus turned his black eyes to Remus, who seemed paralyzed.

"Did you hear that, you complete halfwit? Here's what your fine sentiments have done! Splendid strategy, this criminal sentimentalism that almost cost my son's life!" he shouted.

The four wizards jumped at his words, Snape included. His anger seemed to lessen, but only for a moment.

"I will not allow it, Albus," Severus said as he turned to Dumbledore. "I don't give a damn about all your plans and pretty little family theories. You've all lost your minds. If I come across Loki again, the last thing he'll see will be a flash of green."

"Severus, I beg you, give him a chance!" Remus implored him. "I know I can change him!"

"A chance?" Snape growled. "A chance to kill Harry. This comedy's gone on long enough; I've not changed my mind about wolves and werewolves since when I was a student here. Albus, you've entrusted me with Harry's protection, so take responsibility for it!" Then, as Dumbledore was about to answer, Snape raised his left arm and clapped his hand on his covered forearm. "There's a reason I bear this Mark. Don't mistake me for your lapdog, Headmaster. Never."

Dumbledore's mouth closed, and he nodded, his eyes glittering.

"Remus, my boy, perhaps it'd be best if we talk this over later."

"But you're the one who had me come!" the professor protested.

"No, it was I," Snape replied coldly. "To avoid attracting the entire school's attention to the wolf that attacked us, and your relationship to him. Miss Granger was intelligent enough to come find me and alert me of your suspicious behavior."

"That's entirely unfounded!" Remus defended himself, but Dumbledore didn't try to support him this time. It appeared that Severus was the master of this scene, and Harry all of the sudden felt proud. Without warning, he changed into the cat again and jumped to the Man In Black's shoulder.

Remus moved forward awkwardly. "Harry, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I'd really like to talk to you when you have time. Don't hesitate to come and see me; I can assure you, you'll be safe. I'll explain anything you'd like to know." He took a deep breath and turned then to Snape, who was watching him, his arms crossed, his eyes colder than ever. "Severus, you have my apologies for what Loki's done. I'll do everything within my power to make sure it doesn't happen again; I hope you know that."

Severus nodded almost imperceptibly, and Remus withdrew to the door.

"Keep me informed if you get any news. I'll be in my rooms, at your disposal."

Just then, the werewolf seemed so unhappy that Shadow was tempted to jump down to comfort him. But Snape's foul mood had only just started to resolve, and this probably wasn't the time to provoke him in that way. Remus began to leave, Dumbledore walking with him as he spoke to him in a low voice, and Harry thought it was the first time he saw a resemblance between Remus and Draco Malfoy: how absolutely pathetic they both looked as they left the office.

Dumbledore didn't waste any time in returning to them, and Shadow thought he saw a measure of apprehension in the Headmaster's face. He quickly understood why when Snape let loose his anger again.

"Albus, could you explain for me how such an enormous breach in the school's security could've been overlooked?" he thundered.

"Severus, my boy, you realize that this entrance is one of those secrets of Hogwarts that was practically impossible to know," the Headmaster ventured appealingly.

"But as Headmaster, you knew about it!"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore sighed. "If you take my place one day, you'll learn that Hogwarts' Headmaster's manual is at best abbreviated, and makes mention only of the secret passages discovered by previous headmasters. I was the first to be astonished to learn of the existence of this tunnel, and I don't know how Mr. Malfoy could've known it."

Severus began to pace back and forth, the cat balancing precariously from his perch on his shoulder.

"Hagrid, it's definitely Hagrid. I would've gladly accused a Marauder, but I presume that even Lupin isn't stupid enough to give his son the means to kill."

"Severus, we know nothing on this matter, so it's useless to throw theories into the air," Dumbledore said. But nothing seemed to be able to placate the Potions master.

"Useless? The school doesn't keep anyone in or out! How am I supposed to let Harry and the other students come and go freely if this killer can enter at any time?" he shouted.

"The tunnel will be sealed off this evening, I'll see to it; the elves are already taking care of the problem. The school is well-guarded, Severus, you know this. Harry must keep up his guard, but the risk remains minimal, outside of those students who'd like to attack him."

In particular the Slytherins, Harry thought. He could sense Snape simmering with rage, but he paused before answering.

"Tomorrow, I'll undertake a tour of the school with the other heads of house. We'll look for each and every weakness, each little potential threat, and we'll try to fix them," he announced morosely.

"I'm certain your colleagues will be happy to accompany you," Dumbledore agreed. "However, that will have to wait a day or two. There's a matter concerning the Dursley estate that's been put off a good while, and now we must examine it, I'm afraid. The Ministry contacted me today; it's become an urgent affair."

Shadow stiffened at the name. The Dursleys…the house! He'd completely forgotten it.

Snape's reassuring hand came up to rub his side, and Shadow shook himself, waiting for the rest of it.

"Harry will have to go there tomorrow, if possible, to decide what he wants to keep, and do with the house. With an escort, of course," Dumbledore said.

The cat quickly lifted a paw and tapped Snape's head enthusiastically. The Headmaster, who'd previously been as serious and somber as the circumstances required, suddenly seemed to have great difficulty in holding back the urge to laugh.

"I think everyone's understood," Snape said as he made a face. "That's enough, Harry. I'll go."

Satisfied, the cat settled down again.

"So, tomorrow morning, then, if possible," Dumbledore agreed with a small sigh. "And Harry, perhaps you should visit Madam Pomfrey to check that you're not injured?"

Shadow answered with a serious meow and an emphatic shake of his head. Not now. He wasn't hurt, and he didn't want to leave his Man In Black. Dumbledore and the others could say all they wanted; the memory of a huge white wolf chasing him through the corridors to rip him to shreds was still much too fresh.

"Harry will come with me for now, and we'll see afterward if that will be necessary," Snape cut in. Since when was he so authoritative? Shadow wondered. But for the moment, he had no objection to it. "By the way, is there any news on the paperwork?" the professor asked the Headmaster.

"It's being processed," Albus replied. "I was waiting for your go-ahead."

"You'll have it this evening," Snape said with a nod, leaving a particularly frustrated Shadow, who didn't understand. A sharp meow at Severus' ear brought him into line. "That's enough, dirty beast. Hold on securely, we're going down to our rooms and I don't want any foolishness in the corridors."

Severus definitely wasn't in a good mood, thought the cat…and yet, he himself was the one who'd almost got eaten.

"Me-o-ow!"

"I'm very seriously considering buying a muzzle."

"MEOOOOOW!"

"All right, all right, very well, anything you want, but spare my eardrums. Calm down, Harry, we're going back to the dungeon to discuss our outing for tomorrow, and you'll be free to do as you like. Albus, I only ask you to give me this weekend to take care of my class preparations, after which I'll be resuming my post."

"Are you sure that's advisable, my boy?" Dumbledore asked with a frown.

"My magic is at an adequate level; there's no reason for me to delay my return any longer. I'll arrange to train Harry in the evenings and during free periods. And what's more," he smiled thinly," you wouldn't want to deprive my students of my presence any longer?"

Dumbledore laughed softly, then nodded.

"As you like, Severus, of course. But if you judge your work with Harry more important, you shouldn't hesitate."

"Harry will gain more from attending class normally, as much as is possible, than remaining isolated. Being alone isn't good for him, as today's misadventure has proved," Snape replied.

Shadow pretended a sudden interest in Fawkes, his tail casually beating out a tempo. All right, maybe he'd strayed a bit out of the boundary limits…but hey, he couldn't stay shut up in the tower all his life, though.

"In that case, I'll await your message this evening," Dumbledore said. "For now, I'm going to assure that order has been restored and that safety is optimal inside the castle."

"A wise decision," Snape said ironically. The Headmaster's eyes sparked with something that was neither pleasure nor humor, but Snape didn't take notice of it and headed for the door, Shadow on his shoulder.

The door slammed behind them, and the wizard stiffly walked down the staircase. If there were one thing of which Shadow was sure just then, it was that Snape was particularly satisfied, a satisfaction that left a strange taste in his mouth. Pictures of the Headmaster's office flashed through his mind: a slightly different office, a slightly younger Dumbledore, and Snape as a teenager seething with rage and impotence. That day, Severus had left that room with a sense of bitter defeat and profound injustice, a wound that had only now just been healed, Harry realized. In a way, Snape had just settled the score, and Dumbledore had no doubt understood.

They'd hardly had time to take a few steps into the corridor when they met McGonagall striding for the office, seeming distracted. Her face relaxed, though, when she noticed the professor and the cat still perched on his shoulder.

"Severus! Is everything all right?" she earnestly asked.

"No one's dead or injured, if that's your question," the wizard replied with ill-humor.

"Thank Merlin," McGonagall sighed. "The target was indeed your…cat?"

"Whom else?" Snape gritted out.

"I don't understand—and yet we took every possible precaution."

"Well, that wasn't enough. I suggest we examine the weaknesses that might be present in the castle, tomorrow or the day after at the latest. This sort of attack cannot be tolerated!"

"Did I understand that one of your students is implicated in today's attack?" the witch went on.

"Indeed," Severus admitted. "He's being well-guarded in the depths of the dungeons as we speak. And since we're on the subject of accounting for houses, I'd be grateful if you would muzzle your werewolf on duty; it's unacceptable for this sort of attack to happen again."

"Severus, I know you disapprove of Remus' presence in the castle, but you must be reasonable; we need him, especially now. It's time to put the rivalries of youth aside."

"Disapprove?" Severus roared, his anger getting the best of him again. "I don't disapprove of it, I condemn it, and we once again have proof that a werewolf in the school is only a source of trouble and danger for students! But since this one seems to have marked his territory in yours, then see to having him sterilized. That should solve half of the problem."

Without waiting for a reply, the professor turned on heel, under McGonagall's outraged eyes, and took off for the dungeons, his black robes swirling dangerously around him. The few students still milling in the corridors wasted no time in fleeing, knowing only too well the threat of a furious Snape.

But the Potions master's menacing aura, also known under the name of 'vampire of the dungeons', had no effect at all on Sybill Trelawney, who rushed at a run to meet Snape, her eyes wide.

"I saw it! I saw it! I warned you, Mr. Potter, a great misfortune, the Grim!" she exclaimed ecstatically to the cat.

"Sybill, I'm certain I heard one of your crystal balls calling you," Snape said dryly without stopping.

"Severus, you don't understand! The Great Dog is after him! He must absolutely be protected from the yellow shadows lying in wait for him! A purification, immediately, before the great misfortune strikes! I saw it, I saw it in the tea leaves, the fight between the wolf and the cat, hostile brothers, two lost and found destinies that—"

"And it would've inconvenienced you to alert someone, by chance the Headmaster, that your valuable talents had found a use for the first time in thirty years of service?" Snape lashed out as he slightly quickened his pace.

"You're nothing but an uneducated heretic and completely impervious to the subtle art of divination!" Trelawney shrieked. "Don't you see that this boy has an exceptional and tragic fate awaiting him? I've predicted it, the shadows that—"

"Sybill," Severus interrupted as he stopped in his tracks, "make yourself useful and ask your crystal balls, tea leaves and other sundry artifacts which open door the Great Grim will knock on next time. I'd like a precise location, as well as the hour and date. And, of course, how to counter the shadow in question."

"Well, that's impossible," the woman stammered as she tripped on her robes. "Divination is an art of interpretation, not a train schedule! I can only put forth…foresee…"

"Ah, well, in that case, start by methodically going through your bloody tower in search of all possible entrances and exits, and keep your distance from my cat if you don't want yourself to be the victim of a cruel potions-related fate!" Snape barked out as he went on his way again, leaving his colleague terrified and her mouth hanging wide open.

From Snape's shoulder, Shadow shot her his best feline, mysterious look, jubilant on the inside. Trelawney's predictions during third year had almost cost him his relationship with Sirius, Grim in spite of himself, and his irritation at hearing this nonsense again had been close to Snape's.

It was with relief that they finally entered their rooms, without having come across another target for Snape's wrath.

Without hesitation, Shadow jumped to the floor and transformed.

"Merlin, I never want to leave here again," Harry sighed as he fell onto the settee. "This day's been totally mad. First Loki and that attack, and then Malfoy…do you really think he's sincere? That he'll actually change sides?" he asked.

"Draco only wants to save his skin and his life," Severus replied as he set two glasses on the low table. "He's not cut out to be a Death Eater, as opposed to his father. Lucius should've known that a long time ago. But I suppose he hardly had a choice. Anyway, it's up to us to ensure that he sincerely joins our side from here on out. You made a good choice, Harry; I'm proud of you. I suspect it wasn't an easy decision."

Harry made a face. "Yeah, well, I didn't have much of a choice either, not really. I can't say I'm really taken with the idea, but I wasn't going to let him go back to training camp for young Voldemorts."

Snape nodded as he relaxed into his chair. "Whatever comes next won't be easy for Draco. He'll need to be closely watched, and encouraged."

"When he's left out of his dungeon, you mean," Harry said with a big smile.

Snape allowed himself a slight smile. "I suspected that detail would please you. Once again, it was necessary. Slytherin or not, it's unacceptable for me to let one of my students attack you and come out of it unscathed. Harry, my speech at the beginning of the year was completely sincere, I hope you realize that."

"Yeah, now I do," Harry answered, felling a soft warmth fill him. "I confess I was a bit afraid, you know, with Malfoy being your favorite. But yeah, I suppose I feel better about it now."

"I've known Draco since his birth," Severus agreed. "He was a very intelligent little boy, but he's always been temperamental and much too proud for his own good. The result of his upbringing, obviously. Unfortunately, I've never had much influence over him. Making him obey was often a downright challenge."

Once again, Harry grimaced. "About that, Severus, I'm sorry. For going out without an escort, I mean. I know you'd forbidden me to do it, I just…" He shrugged. "I don't have a worthwhile reason, actually."

"No, you just wanted to take a walk through the castle when it suited you," Snape sighed, "and I certainly can't scold you for that. I allowed you to walk about on your own more than once recently, Harry. I wasn't fond of you feeling permanently in danger inside Hogwarts. Clearly a mistake, but one I intend to quickly remedy. Until further notice, always stay with your friends or an adult, even in your common room or dormitory. Sirius Black managed to get in there, after all."

"You mean…I can go on sleeping there if I want?" Harry asked, who wanted nothing more than that.

"I can hardly stop you," the professor replied. "And it doesn't seem foolish to me; I presume McGonagall will be well on her guard now, in any case."

"Most likely," Harry admitted. "But…would it bother you if I sleep here tonight?"

The little flash of pleasure in the professor's eyes did not escape the boy's notice. He felt doubly happy for having asked.

"You can stay here as much as you like, Harry, you know that very well. The Headmaster has no objection."

"Maybe this is idiotic, but I'll feel safer," the boy confessed. "I'll go get my things after supper. I'll have to tell Ron and Hermione what happened, though. They'll be crosser than ever with me. But afterward…"

He smiled.

"I'll be home."


	39. Chapter 39 Shadows of the past

**Chapter Thirty-nine: Shadows of the Past**

When Harry awakened the next morning, it took him a moment to realize where he was. Not at the Manor, nor the Dursleys', nor in the tower. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around him.

Snape! He was in Snape's rooms. More accurately, in his own room. His bed, his wardrobe, his desk, here at Hogwarts. It almost made him purr. Life sometimes had this way of giving you exactly what you wanted, at the moment when you least expected it.

A big smile on his face, he groped on the bedside table for his glasses. They were there, but they weren't the only thing there. Frowning, he put his glasses on and grabbed the other object. A photo, he noted…a photo of…oh Merlin!

There in the white picture frame, a black cat was sleeping, snoring in a rather undignified manner. A cat that was almost black, to be precise, because its tail was a magnificent Slytherin green, as Slughorn had pointed out.

Harry sighed. Maybe life wasn't so perfect after all.

He quickly got dressed and headed for the dining room, where he found the frowning Potions master leafing through a bundle of parchments. He looked up when he heard the boy's footsteps and his expression softened slightly.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Very well, thanks. It was weird waking up here. Nice," Harry added.

"Good," Snape said with a nod. "Breakfast is being served in the Great Hall, if you'd like to go. I have a few matters to sort out with Albus this morning before we leave for Surrey. Perhaps it'd be good for you to make use of that time to talk with Lupin."

Harry made a face. "I'm not sure I want to talk to him."

"Perhaps," Snape replied, "but I'm tired of this continual whining. He's sent me another note this morning, asking me to urge you to go and talk to him. I understand the idea isn't pleasant, but the sooner you take care of this chore…"

"Don't exaggerate," Harry protested, "it's not to that point yet. It's just that… I don't know. Doesn't matter. I'll go see him this morning and try to be back in time to…what time do we have to go to the Dursleys'?"

It seemed to Harry that Severus stared at him strangely, but an instant later, the wizard replied, "When we have the go-ahead from the Ministry. They've sent a squad of Aurors to check that you won't be at risk there. This time, Scrimgeour seems determined your life won't be put in danger because of him. A grand gesture on the part of our Minister," Snape scoffed.

"Oh. I suppose that's rather justified. Will it be all right if I eat breakfast here? It's no bother to go and talk to Remus afterward, but eating with him staring at me makes me nervous."

The corners of Snape's mouth curled upward. "You need only ask your favorite elf to bring you what you want. Use the Floo to go to Lupin—that'd be wiser. Anything else before I go?"

"No…just…" Harry cleared his throat. "I found the photo. Of, um, Shadow. And it was an accident, all right? During Slughorn's Potions class, I leant in over Ron's potion too far, and I don't know why, but my color went back to normal afterward! So I can't understand how on that particular night…"

"Probably a reaction to the alcohol," Snape said. "Interesting. I'd be tempted to do some experimenting. Anyway, I'm keeping that photo close by in case my Slytherins take me to task for bringing a Gryffindor into the dungeons. An act of good faith, if you will."

"That's completely disloyal!" Harry protested indignantly.

"But isn't loyalty the lions' privilege?" Severus replied smoothly. "I'll come for you at Lupin's when it's time. Be careful, I'm still not convinced that Hogwarts is safe just now…and whatever happens, if you're attacked, defend yourself! I forbid you to allow your throat to be ripped out just because it's Lupin's son or anyone else!"

"I know, I didn't really think," the boy admitted. "But he didn't seem all that dangerous until he jumped on me. And then my powers… I never know if I'm just going to defend myself or destroy the castle. It's really frustrating."

"We'll work on that this evening," Snape reassured him. "But the most important thing is that you don't get hurt, Harry. The castle can be repaired, and Loki doesn't deserve for you to spare him. Defend yourself, without evening thinking about it!"

"I'll try," Harry said, hardly convinced. "Anyway, see you later."

Severus let out a disapproving growl, before finally heading for the door, parchments in hand. He was scarcely through the door when Harry heard him shouting at the Slytherin students who obviously had made the tragic mistake of thinking that their head of house had already gone up to the Great Hall.

Harry smiled. No, they wouldn't change Snape, and that was good.

It was with a full and slightly knotted stomach that the boy threw a fistful of Floo powder, a half an hour later, calling out Lupin's rooms as his destination. Severus was right after all; it was best to take care of this chore… He mentally lectured himself: Remus _wasn't_ a chore! He was a friend, a friend who clearly needed help right now.

Sticking his head into the flames, he tried to see the werewolf, who didn't take long to appear with two cups of coffee in his hands.

"Harry, I'm happy to see you! Please, come in!"

Holding back a sigh, the boy stepped through.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked right away. "A bit shaken, I imagine, after all the excitement of yesterday."

"I'm all right, don't worry about me," Harry reassured him as he sat in one of the comfortable armchairs. "Severus gave me some potions last night and I slept like a log."

"I see," the professor said with a frown. "You slept in his rooms, then?"

"In my new room, yes," Harry agreed. "It's weird having your own room at Hogwarts, sort of unreal, you know?"

Remus smiled wanly. "Yes, I suppose."

"And Loki?" the boy then asked. "Have you had any news?"

"No," Remus replied, his lips pinched. "Harry, I don't know how to tell you how horrified I am about what happened yesterday. I didn't know all of Loki's plans, even though we're in contact with each other…more or less sporadically. I would've never let him do such a thing! I must…get to know him better, I suppose, before I can have any influence on him."

"How long since you've been talking to him?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"I learnt of his existence just a few months ago. During my stay with the werewolves. I didn't know about his story or Loba's, his mother. When I found out I had a son, I did all I could to find him, but that wasn't an easy thing to do. Around that same time, Loki found a friend…" He grimaced. "…in the person of Fenrir Greyback. That creature will never cease to plague my life. Anyway, when I finally managed to talk to him, Loki wasn't very impressed."

"But you're his father," Harry said with surprise. "Surely he should've been, I don't know, interested at least?"

"Loki doesn't work the same way we do, Harry," Remus said, seeming lost as he stared into his cup. "I can't say he was completely indifferent. But in a general way…I'm far from being one of his priorities."

"He grew up with another family, I imagine," the boy offered.

"The least that can be said," the werewolf gritted out, and Harry could see a flash of anger in his eyes.

"And…you were able to talk to them?"

"No, that would've been useless. Loba died recently; as for the rest of his…group, they want nothing to do with humans."

"Humans?" Harry gasped. "What do you mean by that? Was Loba really a witch?"

"She was one, yes," Remus ground out again, even more fiercely this time. His fingers were clenched around his cup, and Harry sensed it was ready to break. "A very long time ago."

Harry took a deep breath. "Do you want to tell me?" he asked at last. Lupin looked at him hesitantly.

"I intended to, but I'm not sure it's a good idea. You see, there's a reason all of that happened to Loba and Loki…and me. It involves the person who happens to be your new…father."

Harry sat up straight as his breath caught. "What do you mean by that? Remus, if this another ploy to try to put me off Severus, it won't work!"

"Oh, that's certainly not my intention," said the werewolf before grimacing. "All right, perhaps a little. But this story is true, and I think it's best you know it before all of this goes any further. I understand you're fond of Severus, Harry, and I've noticed he's just as fond of you. But even so, that doesn't make him a good person. He himself said as much in the Headmaster's office last night—he doesn't bear that Mark for nothing. He's a wizard who's versed in Dark magic."

"Remus, that's enough," Harry said softly. "Let me decide what I want and what I should think, all right? I want to know Loki's story, and if Severus has something to do with it, I'm ready to hear it, but don't blacken the picture for me—that's not necessary."

"I won't need to," Remus grumbled. "Believe me, it's horrible enough as it is."

The boy fidgeted uneasily in his armchair. "I'm listening."

"Very well," the professor began. "First, a bit of context. We'd only just finished our studies at Hogwarts—your parents, all the Marauders, including myself. And of course, Severus Snape. At the time, we were all understandably pulled into the war between Voldmort and the wizarding world…each of us in our own way. James, Lily and Sirius had begun their training to become Aurors. Peter, well, doesn't matter, and as for myself, I was reduced to a spectator role, too busy staying alive and not killing anyone."

He stopped a moment to take a swallow of coffee. Harry was careful not to interrupt him.

"You have to know that at the time, Wolfsbane hadn't been invented yet. So I had no way of avoiding the transformations, and I had to stay locked up during every full moon, and most of all, suffer its effects. I didn't weather it very well, physically or mentally. I was ready to do anything for a chance to lead a more or less normal life. It so happened at the time that Severus was studying to become a potions master. He was talented and well-known, and was directly involved in all the experimentation in progress, in both Dark and white magic."

Harry tensed noticeably in his armchair.

"That's when I heard talk of Damocles' first attempts to create a Wolfsbane Potion. I wasn't the only one holding out great hope for this project. There was a group of us werewolves—a half-dozen—all bitten as children by Greyback, and we wanted an escape from our condition. We were ready to submit to any experimentation for that.

"I don't think Severus was particularly interested in the potion, and even less by our plight. But the Ministry was, and the Order of Merlin had been announced as a reward for whoever managed to finalize it. Severus had always been greedy for recognition, and this was an excellent opportunity. I doubt at that time his loyalty was really with our side. Voldemort mustn't have had any objection, though, and Severus carried out his own studies on the potion, in partnership with Damocles. It took just a short time for a prototype to be ready, then a second. All that remained was to try the potions on volunteer subjects. Me and my friends."

He took another deep breath, and refilled his and Harry's coffee cups with a slightly trembling hand.

"Back then, I was in love with a young woman, a bit older than me, who suffered from the same curse. Her parents hadn't allowed her to go to Hogwarts, but she was very intelligent and sensitive. We got on very well."

"You went out together?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yes, you could say that," Remus said with a smile. "Anyway, our group was divided in two. My three friends preferred to test the potion made by Damocles, the inventor of the miracle remedy, which was understandable. As for me, I must confess I still felt guilty about how we'd treated Severus during our school years, especially how Sirius had almost got him killed. I found it all the more generous that he'd take an interest in the potion."

Given the bitter way Remus said the word 'generous', Harry suspected Snape's reasons must've been far from what the werewolf had imagined.

"So, Loba and I decided to willingly volunteer to test his potion. A cruel mistake, but even today, I think I'd do it all over again if it could've advanced the research." He sighed. "For the entire week leading up to the full moon, we took the potion. All of us were very excited. When the big day came, we gathered in two different locations, as instructed by the Potions master, and we waited.

"We were well-guarded, however: a guard for safety's sake in case of a potential problem, and it'd been decided that Loba and I would be free to come and go. This was one of the mistakes that was made. Anyway, when the moon rose, both of us transformed, but not into werewolves this time. Simply into wolves, the same way the current potion works."

"So what was the problem, then?" Harry wondered aloud.

"The problem… Ah, at that point in time, nothing. Loba and I took off into the forest, our instincts as strong as those of normal wolves. We spent the night there, and… Yes, well, I suppose you're old enough now to understand this sort of thing. Anyway, without our being aware, Loba got pregnant."

Harry couldn't hold back a smile. Remus' sudden embarrassment did nothing to help Harry keep a straight face. The rest of his account, on the other hand…

"When the moon was finally gone, and I went back to the base camp, I was alone. And to be honest, I didn't have much recall of what'd happened. I'd transformed back and become myself again."

"And Loba?" Harry asked, fearing his response.

"Loba never transformed back again," Remus answered. "The potion had a different effect on her. She wasn't herself. When I asked Severus what could've happened, he told me he'd probably miscalculated the dosage for a female, or that we'd simply reacted differently. Whatever it was, I never saw Loba again. And Severus never saw his Medal."

"But…didn't you look for her? I mean, maybe it would've been possible…to change her back or something?"

"She took off, Harry, and she no longer had a trace of magic. She met up with a pack of wolves and settled in with them, and according to what I pieced together later, it took years for her to gradually regain an awareness of her former life and what she was," Remus replied, his eyes closed. "When her reason finally returned to her…she decided not to come back. She preferred to stay with the wolves among whom her son, _our_ son, grew up, rather than return to wizarding society."

"That must've been terrible for her and Loki," Harry said with a shudder. "I don't even understand how that's possible, a baby among wolves. I've heard stories about children born in the wild and all that, but…his entire childhood?"

"Which brings us to the next point: Loki," Remus said lowly. "You're thinking from a false presumption, Harry. Loki was born of a wolf and a she-wolf. He never was a child. He was a wolf cub. A wolf with tremendous powers, yes, but a wolf nonetheless."

This time Harry was speechless for a moment. "But…I saw him. He was like me, I mean, human. He transformed, but he was human at the start."

Remus nodded, his hands clenched around his cup. "He's a wizard, an Animagus, more or less. Something of that sort anyway," he murmured. "But he grew up as a wolf. From what I've learnt, it wasn't until he was almost fifteen that he transformed into a human for the first time. I imagine the shock must've been terrifying. And the only ones who were there to help him were his pack mates and his mother, herself trapped in that form."

"Merlin," Harry murmured. "It's not surprising that he's…different."

"He thinks like a wolf, he acts like a wolf," Remus agreed. "His human side is weak. He's very intelligent and cunning; he learnt to behave like a wizard, how to walk and use his magic, how to talk and…think like a human. But his nature is profoundly animalistic, in spite of it all."

"That's horrible, Remus," Harry said, floored. "I understand better now why you had trouble communicating with him; it's…horrible," he repeated, unable to find the right words.

"It's no so awful," Remus reassured him, "especially during the nights of the full moon, it's easy for us to be good friends. But I don't know how to handle all this, and it's clear Loki doesn't need me. I really want to make him come back to the side of the Light, make him understand that he's making a mistake, and that he can count on me. On us. Like I told you, he's not totally intolerant of my presence; Loba apparently still had a certain affection for me, but he doesn't really consider me his father either. Not how I'd like."

"I'm sorry, Remus; that must be very hard," Harry said sympathetically.

"Rather," the professor confessed. "To learn this now, when I thought I didn't have any more family, and then for everything to be so difficult…and all that's happened to you as well, Harry. That my own son attacked you…I'm absolutely horrified."

"Don't worry, everything will work out," the boy said as he shook his head. "I'm glad I didn't attack Loki. I'm sure you'll end up changing his mind, and make a family with him. Merlin, what I'm saying seems stupid, doesn't it? But it's true. A few months ago, no one would've thought Snape would give me a place in his rooms, huh?"

"No, certainly not," Remus pondered aloud. "And it's rather ironic that Severus finds himself with a family, and with you precisely, since all of this is his fault."

"Excuse me," Harry said hesitantly, "but I don't understand. It was just an experiment, wasn't it? I mean, you knew there would be risks…"

"It's not just that," Remus gritted. "He didn't take any precautions. His vanity pushed and blinded him—he was so sure of himself, so haughty. He should've made certain that Loba could be controlled. He should've foreseen…and he never regretted anything but the Medal. In fact, he was smug. For him, Loba was an acceptable loss! And Loki…was collateral damage. That's what he called him, collateral damage."

Actually, that sounded rather like Snape, Harry thought. Potions first…

"I'm really sorry, Remus," the boy offered. "I know it's horrible to say, but at least there was a positive side to it: the potion's effective now, and he makes it for you."

"Because Dumbledore asks it of him," the werewolf said brokenly. "I know what I owe him, but since I've learnt about Loki's existence…somehow that's not enough to make things even."

"So, please think about what he means to me," Harry said gently. "He saved my life, and in more ways than one. It's the first time I've had someone in my life that even comes close to a father, you know? And…I don't want either of you to be angry."

"I'm not so blind that I don't see the good he's doing you, Harry," Remus said with a wan smile. "I'll do my best, I can promise you that. I'd only ask that you remember he's not perfect, and that he wasn't always…what he is now."

"I know what he is. Better than anyone does, I think," Harry said. "Please stop this, Remus. Stop wanting to pull me away from him. I'll still be here if you need me, but I need Severus, all right?"

"Sometimes I wonder which of us is the adult," Remus sighed. "And as Dumbledore pointed out to me, I have lessons to learn from him right now. Have you already eaten? The elves served me an excellent chocolate cake this morning; I suspect they know my little weaknesses."

It was Harry's turn to smile. Yes, chocolate cake sounded perfect; it would give him time to digest what he'd just learnt.

When Severus appeared in the Floo a half-hour later, Remus and Harry were deep in conversation about Defense Against the Dark Arts class and the best way to arrange the spells to come in the program. All irritation had been forgotten, and the boy was surprised that the time had passed so quickly.

"It's time," Snape said simply, with a curt nod at Remus.

"I'm ready," Harry said as he joined him. "Do I need to take anything?"

"Your traveling cloak will suffice."

"I'm coming. Remus, thanks for the cake and coffee," he said to the professor. "We'll see each other in class, I guess."

"You're welcome here whenever you like, Harry," Remus replied softly. "Take care of yourself."

With a last wave goodbye, Harry stepped into the green flames. Severus was waiting for him in his rooms, his cloak in his hand, an expression of calculated indifference on his face. Despite everything, Harry quickly sensed that this façade hid an intense nervousness.

"Thanks," he said as he put on his cloak. "I didn't think time would pass so quickly. Remus told me Loki's story, you know? From the beginning. It was fascinating and…terribly sad at the same time." He shook his head. "I hope he manages to really get to talk to him. Have a real relationship with him. He deserves it; he's a good bloke, you know."

"Oh, I've no doubt about that," Snape sneered. "Without any sense of priorities, but most likely a typically true Gryffindor."

"It was still you he chose for the potions experiment," Harry pointed out. He didn't miss the flash of anger in Severus' eyes.

"He told you that," the professor said, his voice much too calm.

"Um, yeah, I think he holds that against you a bit; he wanted to put me on my guard or something like that. I understand what he must feel, but it was an experiment. He knew he was taking a risk," Harry explained to soothe him.

"And did he also tell you what would've happened if he'd chosen to test Damocles' potion?" Snape asked.

"No, not really."

"He'd be dead, very likely, like two of the other three werewolves. At least my formula didn't kill anyone. Whatever Lupin thinks, I still consider that a clear-cut improvement," Snape scoffed.

"They died?" Harry exclaimed, horrified.

"Yes, two of Damocles' three subjects," the Potions master answered.

"How…what happened?"

"The dosage of his invention wasn't right, just as I'd supposed. I'd revised my own, correctly, since it's that formulation that's become the official one," Snape replied with a note of pride.

"But Loba wasn't able to transform back again," Harry pointed out.

Severus nodded. "At the time, I thought I'd miscalculated the dosage for her weight and body build. Now, in the light of recent events, I think they were correct. My error was in not foreseeing that those two degenerate morons would be incapable of resisting their primal instincts and would go off into the forest to copulate!"

Harry almost choked at his words, half in surprise, half in horror. "You…you mean…the fact that Remus and Loba had…that they…"

"Potter, get a hold of yourself," Snape said sternly. "I mean quite simply that the fact that Loba became pregnant probably prevented her from transforming back. If I had the slightest ounce of regret concerning those events, I'd take great pleasure in throwing that in Lupin's face right now. Dosage error…I don't make dosage errors!"

"Oh Merlin," Harry moaned. "I don't think I want to know any more about this. It's totally creepy, from start to finish. Enough, subject closed!"

"With great pleasure," the Potions master muttered. "If I never hear another word about Remus Lupin and his progeny, I'll be the happiest man in the world."

"In the meantime," Harry said somberly, "we have to go to the Dursleys', and I know better ways to brighten my day."

A sympathetic hand rested on his shoulder, and Harry smiled at the professor as he wrapped himself in his cloak. Warm, he noted, and thick…of a quality he'd never possessed until now.

"Thanks," he said gratefully. "For the cloak and the clothes; they're wonderful."

"Nothing less than you deserve," Snape affirmed. "It's unacceptable for you to return there in clothing unworthy of you, Harry. I know this will be difficult for you, but be assured straight away that the Aurors have checked every part of the house and it presents no danger. We must know how it will react to your presence, but there is nothing bad awaiting you there. It's just a routine visit, and we'll be protected the entire time by the Aurors posted on the outside."

"I'm not worried," Harry said, surprised. "It's more a matter of bad memories. I've not been back there since the night when…I went to your house."

"Things have indeed changed," Severus agreed. "Whatever happens, don't forget I'll be there with you."

"Maybe it'd be simpler if I went there in my other form?" the boy suggested.

"You'll need to be in your human form to go through and test the remaining magic that might still be there. On second thought, though, you can make the trip as you like."

That was all it took for a contented black cat to jump to his shoulder. Snape smiled slightly. "Very well. In that case, first to the Manor, and we'll Apparate directly from there. Hold on, alley cat." Merlin, how quickly he was becoming accustomed to this weight on his shoulder.

It took less than a minute for the wizard to Apparate into the shelter of the hedge within the Dursleys' garden, the cat on his shoulder. He felt Shadow freeze, eyes wide as he stared at the house. _His _house…but it'd take a long while for Harry to think of it that way, if he ever would, Severus thought.

At last, the cat jumped to the ground and quickly transformed. Snape put a hand on the boy's shoulder to bring him back to reality.

"Do you feel the Aurors' magic around you, Harry?" he asked softly.

The boy blinked several times before concentrating. "Um, I'd say three people? And I think Tonks is one of them!" he said in surprise.

"Exactly. They'll stay undercover as long as nothing worrisome occurs. The place is well protected, as you can see."

But the next instant proved him wrong. It wasn't a wizard who appeared in the gap of the hedge, but a Muggle wearing such a nasty expression on her face that Severus briefly wondered if she'd not forgotten to remove her Death Eater mask.

"You! How dare you come back here! Well, you've a lot of nerve," the woman snapped at Harry.

"Mrs. Peterson…" the boy began, then stopped. What was he supposed to answer to that?

"I see the years spent at St. Brutus' didn't do you much good! Incorrigible delinquent, that's what you are!" the woman spat, clearly pleased with the effect. "Always ready to cause honest people trouble! These poor, poor Dursleys. I don't care what the inquest said, young man, and believe me, everyone here thinks the same as me. We all know they didn't die accidentally! Just lucky you didn't have the nerve to show your hateful face at the funeral."

Deciding that this little caustic speech might go on even longer, Severus took a breath and stepped forward.

"If you'll excuse me," he said in a polite but insincere tone that made Harry shudder, "would you, by any chance, be speaking to my son?"

The question had the intended effect, and the woman stopped, mouth hanging open.

"Pardon? Your…what…you…"

"If that's indeed the case," Snape went on impassively, "I'd be curious to know what this St. Brutus of which you speak is?"

"Well, see, St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys," said Mrs. Peterson as she regained her composure. "Everyone knows that Harry's boarded there for years. He was becoming too difficult for the Dursleys to handle, evidently."

Her critical eyes swept over the Potions master, clearly revealing what she thought of his manners and behavior.

"I'm completely ignorant of what you might have to say, but having been Harry's professor for the past six years, I can assure you that the institution where he boards, and which is among the most selective in Great Britain, accepts no delinquents," Snape said coldly. Or at the very least, if one didn't take into account Draco Malfoy and a few Marauders. But he kept himself from saying this aloud.

As for the undesirable neighbor, she didn't seem to know what to think anymore.

"Severus, it's not worth the trouble," said a small voice at his side. He turned to the boy. "I just want to get this all over with, sign the papers and go home. It's really not important."

But Mrs. Peterson let out a little snort that sounded much like a snigger, and Snape felt his annoyance go up a notch.

"It would appear," he said scornfully, "that not only is the house completely uninteresting, but what's more I see that the neighborhood is an absolute disaster. Between your residence in London and the Manor, I don't see what you could do with it."

This time, the woman let out a small gasp of shock, Snape satisfied with her stunned expression.

"As for you, madam, unless you want to apologize to my son for your rude remarks, I bid you to be on your way without any further delay. As well as setting a poor example, your deplorable manners are on the verge of irritating me. And believe me, you don't want to irritate me."

The professor's threatening tone of voice must've hit the mark, because Mrs. Peterson took a step back and, noticing another neighbor on the opposite pavement, she left without a backwards glance.

"Unbearable creature," Snape murmured.

"Welcome to my life," Harry sighed.

"Your _old_ life, Harry," the wizard corrected him. "Best to go in before the entire neighborhood decides to come pay a courtesy visit."

"I suppose so. Do you have the key?"

Snape took out a key ring from his cloak and handed it to the boy, who couldn't help but tremble. The keys to the house… He'd never had a right to them when the Dursleys were alive. Not that they'd be very useful to him, obviously, but symbolically… He shrugged. Snape was right—he'd probably never come back here anyway. He could already picture the 'For Sale' sign on the lawn. But strangely, the thought didn't bring him any satisfaction.

After all, Mrs. Peterson hadn't been wrong in saying that the Dursleys hadn't died by accident. The house should've gone to Dudley one day. Vernon and Petunia should've grown old here, within these walls, but there was no use to dwelling on that now.

The click of the key sounded familiar, and he pushed open the door with a slight anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

Time seemed to have stopped at number four, Privet Drive. Nothing had changed here since he'd left, nor since he'd first known the house. The foyer was as spotless as always, the framed photos showed an unmoving and smiling Dursley family. Everything was just…normal. The kitchen door was open, and one could've thought that the family had eaten there that very morning. How many times had he cleaned the tiled floor, washed the dishes, prepared meals in that oven? The windows seemed a bit dirty. For a second, he was tempted to go for a rag and the cleaner in the cupboard and wash them before Aunt Petunia scolded him. He shook his head. No one would scold him for anything today. He could even turn the place upside down if he wanted to. It was his house.

His house. He shivered; no, number four, Privet Drive would never be his. It was everywhere, from the photos in the foyer, to the attic where he'd never been allowed, to the very heart of these brick walls that he hated and which hated him back. Cold. Hostile. He could feel it in the icy air here, and in the traces of magic that he sensed.

In reality, the only positive energy he could pick up was Severus', who remained silently at his side.

Too silent. The entire house was much too silent.

"Nothing's changed," he said aloud, the sound of his own voice almost making him startle. "Everything's exactly like when I left. I remember when I was little, I told myself that if I ever had the house to myself, I'd make a mess everywhere. But really, that wouldn't work. That's the way things turn out. I spent too much time picking up and cleaning to do that now."

Snape didn't say anything, even though Harry could sense that he understood. Without paying him any attention, Harry went on into the kitchen.

"You see? When I was really little, I just cleaned the floor with a cloth. I had trouble holding the broom, and I'd always end up wet and smelly. I was really small, I think, when I started. When I'd grown a bit, I did the dishes and the cooking. Aunt Petunia had a stool I used so I could be higher. I burnt myself all the time—on the water and with the pans. It took me a long time to learn I had to run the burns under the cold tap. I thought the stove and oven were monsters trying to hurt me. And the garden. The hoovering, that wasn't as hard, and the laundry too. Didn't make much difference to me. I didn't have anything else to do anyway."

He shrugged. Dudley had never had enough toys, but as for himself….

"Sometimes, I hid old broken toys that my cousin threw away, and I tried to play when no one was around. Problem was, there was never 'no one.' I couldn't be left alone in the house, sometimes I'd explode things, I suppose. It's almost weird that they let me cook, when I think about it."

Snape still didn't say anything, and Harry had just about forgotten he was there. He followed the boy into the sitting room, though.

"And Aunt Petunia's teas—everything had to be spotless. Didn't matter that it was me who waxed the table and fixed the tea and toast, and dusted; I knew she and her friends never missed a chance to speak badly of me and my parents. The horrible little nephew, abandoned by his alcoholic parents, spoiling such a beautiful family. And to hear Aunt Petunia, you would've believed they really treated me like their son. It almost would've been touching, if I hadn't heard all that from my cupboard."

But he didn't head for the cupboard. No, there was no reason to, he knew perfectly well. The sitting room, though, and all its photographs, furniture he had the right to touch because it belonged to him now. He could trail his finger along the white walls, break the picture frames, scratch the floorboards and no one would have a thing to say to him.

But for what? The Dursleys weren't there any longer to be angry about it.

"I'm going to take a look upstairs," he announced. "I'll be back."

As if he'd understood that Harry wanted to be alone, Snape headed for the garden, leaving him to go up the polished stairs, his heart pounding.

Would his little room still be there? It was, of course, but it appeared the Dursleys had decided he wouldn't be staying in it anymore. The padlocks on the door had been removed, the door itself repainted, and now what looked like a video game room had been set up there. Apparently, Dudley had taken over the space.

Harry stood frozen in the doorway. Perhaps the room was filled with armchairs and computer desks, but he didn't see them. Not really. All he saw was an old bed, an almost empty wardrobe, and bars on the windows, and he especially saw Uncle Vernon.

He quickly shut the door again. No, he really didn't want to go inside again. Turning around, he opened the door to Dudley's room. Stacked almost to the ceiling with high-tech gadgets and games, it had hardly changed. The atmosphere here was unfriendly, but less so than in the other rooms. Something nostalgic, a bit of regret, maybe…

He would never have the chance to get along with his cousin now. Not that he'd ever thought they'd be friends one day, but in spite of everything, they'd grown up together, and Harry had always told himself that later, when they were adults, when they each had a family…

It was stupid, obviously. Dudley had always looked down on him anyway. He probably would've become just like his father as he got older, even though something in Harry made him doubt that. Whatever he might think of Vernon and Petunia, his cousin hadn't deserved to die so young, and even less so in the way that he had.

On the desk, a piece of paper caught his attention. Someone had tried to write a letter, and he recognized Dudley's crude handwriting. It was addressed to a Betty, and Harry understood right away that she was a girl whom his cousin had liked at school.

The phrasing was so awkward, but the effort so obvious that Harry couldn't help but feel touched. And Betty would never have her letter. Dudley in love. It was totally surreal.

Unable to resist, the boy began to rummage through the drawers. Class texts that didn't seem much used, boxing magazines, sweet wrappers…and well-hidden at the back of the drawer, other magazines, but these weren't boxing ones. Harry laughed softly. Girls had definitely seemed to interest Dudley recently. He was ready to shut the drawer when a scrap of paper caught his eye. He pulled it out, revealing a slight gap in the wooden back of the drawer—a false bottom! But what could Dudley have hidden that would be even more secret than porn magazines?

Intrigued, he manipulated the piece of wood to make it slide, and to his great surprise, discovered books again. But not class books, no. "Witchcraft in Great Britain." "Understanding Magic." "Wizards and Magicians."

Stunned, Harry sat heavily in the desk chair. Dudley had tried to learn more about magic? About him? What could've gotten into him? Was it possible that he was searching for information to try and become a wizard himself, to become more powerful? Or was it simply to understand it?

Given his parents' opinion on the subject, Harry understood very well the need to hide these materials.

Feeling more uncomfortable than ever, he put the books back in their place and quickly left the room. All of a sudden, he wasn't sure he wanted to go on with this visit. But this would surely be the last time he'd come here, and he had to see it through to the end. Ill at ease, he opened the door to Petunia and Vernon's room. He'd never been allowed in here, even to clean, and he didn't want to go in today either. Even less to discover any of his uncle and aunt's possible secrets.

What exactly was he looking for? he wondered. What was he supposed to discover or trigger? He could sense that the place was permeated with magic, mainly his own, but, then, what was surprising about that in this house where he'd grown up? And the house, he could sense, was pushing against him as hard as it could. Mostly and especially Dudley's second bedroom. He could feel the dark waves oozing from beneath the door, escaping like shadows, swirling around the still visible marks from the locks.

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the room again. He wasn't a coward; he wouldn't shrink away from the illusions his mind was creating for him. But he'd scarcely shut the door behind him when he realized he'd been wrong. The room wasn't a video game room at all. It was a prison, a torture chamber, and Vernon was waiting for him, his belt in his hand, his eyes burning with irrational fury. It was dark and terribly cold. Harry could see the condensation from his breath as he watched Vernon come toward him; he himself was unable to move at all.

"How dare you come back here?" the man growled, cracking his belt in the air. "How dare you set a foot in here, after what you've done?"

Harry opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"I always said we should've left you in front of the nearest orphanage! You've destroyed our family! We took you in and you got us killed, all of us! Even my poor Dudley who was only sixteen! You're a freak, a freak!"

Vernon didn't exist, he wasn't there, it was only his mind playing tricks, Harry tried to repeat in his head. Unsuccessfully.

"You deserve everything that's happened to you, and don't you dare claim it was in any way our fault. Who could love someone like you? Your own parents died because of you! You don't deserve a family, you've never deserved one; you're just a worthless burden who always brings death to those around you! Your parents, Sirius, us, what more do you want? No one wants you, especially not here!"

Once again, the belt cracked, much closer this time. Vernon was only a few feet away now, his red face twisted with rage.

"Get in your cupboard. Go there where no one will have to see you, and stay there!" he shouted.

Harry leaped and grabbed the doorknob. For a second, it seemed as if it were refusing to budge, before finally turning in his hands. He ran out of the room, then hurtled down the steps, his eyes blurry. The cupboard, he had to get back in the cupboard, quickly, and never come out again. Stay there where he wouldn't bother anyone. No one.

Without knowing how he'd got there, he blinked as he realized he was in the dusty, foul-smelling cubbyhole, crouched down amongst the brooms and bottles of cleaners, at the back of what had been his room for ten years.

Safe. Or at the very least, alone.

Home.

The place that had been his only semblance of refuge during his childhood, in the blackness. A blackness so dark that it was almost impenetrable, as if it were growing in intensity, filling the small space, protecting him from the eyes of the rest of the world. Arms wrapped around his legs, he pressed his forehead to his knees.

Uncle Vernon was right. He had to stay here, never leave again, be forgotten. Then maybe trouble would stop hounding him.

The door opened, letting in the light, and he curled up a bit more against the wall. No, not now, he'd not done anything, he just wanted to be left alone.

It seemed that someone was sliding in next to him in the cupboard, and he felt the blackness fighting as it retreated, furious at the intrusion, at this other magic confronting it. A hand touched his shoulder, and he jumped.

"Harry."

The boy squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could.

"Go away. Leave me alone."

"Harry, look at me," said the somber voice.

Severus, he thought, it was Severus, but he didn't want to look up and see his expression.

Harry did it anyway.

The man's face was lined with worry and gentleness. "Harry, everything is all right, they can't hurt you anymore," the wizard said.

But far from comforting him, the words abruptly fueled Harry's anger.

"Go away! You don't know what you're talking about! I'm the one who hurts people… He was right. Dumbledore should've never left me here!"

"No, he shouldn't have," Snape agreed. "Anyone else would've treated you better than these Muggles."

"That's not true!" Harry cried. "They did their best, I didn't deserve a family anyway, not after what happened to my parents! Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone!"

But the Potions master didn't make a move to leave. "You know that's not true," he said gently. "None of what happened to your parents, nor to the Dursleys, was your fault. You have the right to live your life, a normal one, like all children do. You have the right to have a family."

"I don't want one," the boy said hoarsely. "It always ends badly anyway."

"Do you think it will end badly for us as well?" Snape asked softly.

"I'm sure of it," Harry replied. "You'll get yourself killed because of me—that's almost happened several times already. Or you'll go away. You'll get tired of me. You'll desert me like before."

"That won't happen," the professor said. "None of it."

"What do you know?" the boy shouted. "_I_ know it. And you really don't want me, it just turned out this way, but it won't last, you'll leave too."

"I won't leave, I promise you," Severus said as he squeezed his shoulder.

"Promises don't mean anything," Harry ground out as he rested his forehead on his knees. "I know you can't really be my family. I was just hoping…but it won't work. You're like all the others. You've just been forced to take care of me because of the war, the prophecy, and all the rest of it. I don't want it. I don't want it anymore."

It was the man's turn to scold, as he seized the boy by the shoulders and forced him to face him. "That's enough. I refuse to allow this little pity party to go on a second longer! I'm a man of my word and I keep my commitments, Harry James Potter, and not because I'm obliged to, but because I wish to! I want you, stupid child, what must I do to prove that to you?"

"Nothing," the boy said as he struggled, "leave me alone—I told you, all of that's just because of Dumbledore! He stuck you with me, and now you feel obligated to do it for him, for my mother, for all of them! I don't want it! I'd rather be by myself!"

"No one obligated me to do anything. This little discussion is completely foolish! Harry, I had a hundred opportunities to send you back to Hogwarts if I'd wanted; if all of this had only been a question of duty, I wouldn't have challenged the Headmaster to be able to keep you with me. I'm attached to you, stupid cat, stupid boy, and I won't stand for being sent away because of a simple bout of hysteria!"

"My parents told me," the boy stammered out, his eyes suddenly empty, "that they regretted I'd been born. That I wasn't worth the trouble. That I was a disappointment. That they would've rather been alive…without me. Even my parents."

Severus' mind quickly put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"That was an act, Harry, like all the rest of it. A grotesque comedy orchestrated by Lucius Malfoy and his cronies—it had nothing to do in any way with your parents. Those were Death Eaters in disguise, trying to hurt you in the most vicious way possible."

"Sirius was there too," Harry murmured. "They hate me. All of them. And Dumbledore. You weren't there, but doesn't matter, I know you despise me too. You did before, and one day or another, I'll do something and you'll hate me again. And honestly, I don't think I could bear it, so I'd rather you leave now."

"For the hundredth and last time, I'm not going anywhere, and all these hideous scenarios never happened! Whatever I might think of Black, I'm convinced he didn't spend a second wondering why he was dying. He did what he did out of love for you, and nothing will change that. He doesn't hate you any more than your parents do, no more than I do. I'm sorry that these people who were your real family can't watch over you, Harry, but as long as you want me by your side, I'll be here, and nothing in the world will make me change my mind. Not even these little fits of hysteria, which, all things considered, are understandable in this place."

But the boy continued to shake his head. "No. No. It won't work. I can't have a family. I can't."

Severus put an arm around Harry's shoulders to pull him against him, and Harry began to struggle.

"Stupid child," Snape scolded gently without releasing him. "It will come down to you choosing the day when I'll sign these papers for this little crisis to pass. Harry, calm down. Harry."

But the boy was beside himself, and redoubled his efforts to escape from his grasp.

"Harry Potter, imbecilic cat, are you going to look at what I'm trying to show you, or will it be necessary for me to put you under a Petrificus to make you read it?" the professor thundered, his voice serious.

The tone of his voice made the boy instantly cease his efforts to free himself, and his eyes focused on the bundle of papers that the man was practically waving in front of him, all the while holding on to Harry.

The first think that struck him was the Ministry seal. Then the word 'adoption.' Then his name in big letters, and Snape's.

An official adoption request, signed by Severus' hand.

"No one has forced me to do anything, Harry," he said gently when he was certain the boy'd understood. "Dumbledore, in fact, was rather surprised by my request. Anyway, if you accept this, we'll truly be a family and no one will be able to interfere in my decisions about you, not even the Ministry."

Dazed, Harry looked up at the professor's face. "You…you want to be my legal guardian?"

"No, I want to be your father. Officially, in everyone's eyes, and yours in particular."

Silence filled the cupboard, but it wasn't a heavy silence this time. Slowly, his eyes moving back and forth between the papers and the face of his new father, Harry relaxed. His hand gripped the man's sleeve tensely.

"Please," he murmured, "if you have to change your mind, do it now. Because in a minute, I'm going to accept it all, really accept it, and if you decide later that you don't want it anymore…I won't be able to stand it. So, please, do it now."

Severus sighed and ran a hand through the boy's hair. "I'm not going to change my mind—not today or ever. There've been few things in my life that seem as certain and permanent to me as this one, and nothing will convince me otherwise. I only regret that this revelation didn't occur sooner, Harry…but life is what it is, and I intend to make up for lost time. You're already my son, papers or not, as far as I'm concerned. It's something I cannot reconsider…even if I must now ask the same favor of you that you've asked of me—to decide if you truly want to back out today, before I send these papers to the Ministry. If you change your mind later on this subject, Harry, I'll also have a great deal of difficulty accepting it."

His eyes wide, the boy studied the man. He knew that Snape was sincere, that he meant what he was saying…that he really meant it. That Harry could hurt him by refusing. By why would he have refused?

Unable to answer with words, Harry wrapped his arms around Snape's chest, and buried his face in his robes. His relief was so immense that it almost hurt…

"Please," he murmured through the cloth, "I want to go home."

Severus closed his arms around him, and with a loud _crack_, they Disapparated.

* * *

_A lot of thanks to my superfast, incredible translator Raewhit! How she can manage the translation this fast, while herself writing fanfics and translating other fics, I can't explain, but I am forever grateful!_

_A few days ago, the original version of Shadow ( French title) actually reached its second birthday. It seems strange when you think that only a few months passed in the story, and all the more when you know that the story is now translated into 4 languages! This story has been basically the only positive part of my life those last years, and though it's a bit frightening, well, it gives you an idea of how much I'm glad that you people read and enjoy it! Shadow has a long way to go, actually I have 2 sequels planed, and I absolutely don't know yet at which point I will end this part of the story ( the sequel being a whole part of it ). Well, I guess we will have to see :-)_

_And by the way, I am going to update the picture album of my holidays… sorry, Snape's holidays in New Caledonia on my lj this evening, if you want to have a good laugh, have a look!_

_Hope you liked this chapter :-)_


	40. Chapter 40 Ghosts

**Chapter Forty: Ghosts**

The familiar surroundings of the laboratory formed around them, and Harry jumped quickly to his armchair. An instant later, a black cat curled up against the cushion, head between his paws. Focused on the crackling of the fire and the rapid pounding of his heart, he almost didn't hear the footsteps approaching, then drew back a bit more when he realized that Severus was standing beside him.

There was a rustling of paper, then the steps went away again. "I'll be in my office."

The door closed, and Shadow looked up. His office? He didn't even know that Snape had one. Where, then? His eyes drifted to the little table Severus had transfigured between the two chairs. A bundle of recognizable papers lay there.

The adoption papers. Harry transformed and reverently picked up the documents.

His heart was still pounding wildly, the words seemed to dance in front of his eyes. Adopt. Protect. Legal. Ministry. Child.

He blinked. He had to calm down and read the parchment carefully. This was about his life, after all. Frowning, he immersed himself in reading the various paragraphs before straightening again, stunned.

He'd obviously known this, but to see it in black and white… If Snape decided to go through with this process, Harry would become his son in every sense of the word. Severus would have all the rights of a parent, and all the duties as well. The same for the 'legitimate child', according to this document—he'd become Snape's heir and could even take his name.

Harry Snape? The name almost felt familiar, but did he really want to give up his own? Or maybe Potter-Snape?

Harry shivered violently, and put the papers back on the table as if they'd burned him, before sinking back into the chair. He wasn't going to be able to do it. For Merlin's sake, barely three months ago, he'd considered Snape one of his worst enemies. And what would his father have thought? And what, even more importantly, were his friends going to think? And what if Severus changed over time; what if he ended up like the Dursleys?

It was madness. Sheer madness. Of course he was fond of Snape. Of course the man had proved that he only wanted what was best for him, but it was too much, too soon, too late, too _something,_ and he was about to suffocate.

He should've been happy. Shouting with glee, jumping everywhere, climbing trees.

Actually, yeah, he felt like climbing trees! Frantically, he took the stairs up, four by four, before closing the door to the garden behind him.

It was Shadow who raced into the park, threading through the grass with his ears back, leaping between the tree trunks until finally spotting his favorite tree, then climbing it with his paws as fast as he could.

The Manor! Snape had told him this was his home. It was here that he'd offered, a few weeks before, to take care of him like a parent would. But he'd not believed it, not really. Lily would've wanted it, he was sure, but Sirius and James? Both had helped Snape to save him, but from that to adopting him? That'd surely make them roll over in their graves.

Struck by sudden impulse, he leapt to the foot of the tree, and took off at a run. Far from the Manor, far from Severus. He wanted to be alone. Burrs snagged in the fur of his coat, scratching him along the way, but he paid it no mind. Snape would take care of it anyway…he always did. Took care of him, saved him…but despite all his good intentions, he'd not been able to save Lily, had he? And even now that memory haunted him.

Was that why he looked after Harry so much, why he wanted to adopt him? To keep his promise, to hang on to the memory of Lily?

But no, Harry'd already thought of all this; he knew that wasn't the real reason. Of course Severus would get something out of it, a family he'd never really had either. And a bit of fame maybe? Snape had always sought recognition, as Remus had pointed out to him. Had Severus thought of that when starting the adoption process?

The cat sped up, acutely ashamed and uncomfortable. His thoughts were rather Slytherin today. Why couldn't he just admit that Severus only wanted the best for him? That he just wanted him, and wanted to protect him? Hadn't he done enough to prove it, saving him over and over, putting his own life in danger with that Protego, sacrificing himself like his mother had done?

Merlin, he wanted it; he wanted it so much, but if he were wrong, if things turned out badly, if he lost everything again, after having had it…that would be the worst of all.

But speaking of losing… Shadow stopped suddenly, caught off-guard. Where had he ended up? The little clearing he'd just come into seemed natural enough, but there was also something artificial and disconcerting about it. Maybe the way the plants and shrubbery were arranged? And that strange rock almost in the middle. He took off for it at a gallop.

Up close, the thing seemed even more ostentatious, and he quickly understood why as he made his way around it. Across from a stream and on the remnant of a path that hardly seemed practical, the stone was impressively engraved. Shadow went closer to decipher the inscription, his curiosity making him forget all caution.

_Here lies Arthus Desmond Hector Prince, Pureblood and Philanthropist._

_1890-1972_

_R.I.P_

Shadow blinked. 1972? So the grave wasn't that old. Was Arthus Prince Severus' grandfather? It was his mother's family name, in any case, he was certain, given what he'd seen in the professor's memories.

Something wasn't right here…Harry instinctively took his human form and sat facing the stone slab as he frowned. Then Snape's words sounded in his memory. _This isn't a family dwelling."_

No? But then why were his ancestors' graves here on the Manor grounds?

But after all, this was just one grave, Harry reasoned. Maybe a coincidence…maybe Snape had had his grandfather's body brought here after he'd acquired the Manor.

He shook his head as he traced the engraved letters with his fingertips. He had to think clearly… Changing form again, he took off into the woods again, following the beginning of the path that ran along the stream. And his intuition soon proved to be correct. This wasn't a cemetery, strictly speaking, no, but several graves were scattered about the countryside, blending in naturally with the surroundings. Some of them seemed particularly ancient, but he was able to read certain names without difficulty.

The Prince name always appeared, accompanied by that of their spouses. And among those here, certain of them were far from unknown to him. _Parkinson. Rosier. Prewett! Bones. _And even more troubling, on the most ancient graves: _Black. Potter._

Flabbergasted and trembling, Harry fell to his knees in front of the grave. Potter! The Potters and the Princes had been related, then, at some time in their history? Maybe it was one of his ancestors lying there beneath the heather. Then how could his parents be…

The realization struck him like a shock of cold water. His parents! Their graves! Voldemort had tried to kill him there, but he'd also said something that night, something that'd managed to trouble Harry, even in his trance. He'd never been to their graves…he'd never thought about it.

Merlin, but this was what he should do, as soon as possible. It was so crystal clear! All these questions, these doubts…he'd find the answer there. And he also should say goodbye to Sirius and the Dursleys. Before signing those adoption papers himself, he had to pay a visit to all those who had in one way or another been his family.

Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? He didn't even know where Sirius and the Dursleys' graves were, but he'd find them. One way or another, he was convinced that the storm inside his head would subside a bit as soon as he'd seen them.

Both relieved and excited, Harry assumed his feline form again and took the shortest course through the underbrush for the Manor, leaving the strange and peaceful Prince cemetery behind him. Without having been able to locate Tobias and Eileen Prince's tomb, though, Harry realized. The most recent graves, however, seemed to also be those closest to the path.

Not giving it another thought, he headed for the Manor, belly to the ground, until he was out of breath. Then, transforming back, he went in search of Severus' office.

Not in the basement, since the professor had gone up the stairs. And as he didn't seem to use the upper story, the room would most likely be on the ground floor. But where?

Hmmm. Probably next to the library, Harry thought; that was the most logical…and he had this strange and nagging impression that the man he was searching for was just behind these walls. He crossed through the library, his footsteps muffled by the thick rug, and stopped in front of a large wooden door.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

"Come in."

Right! Snape was there. He pushed open the door with a slight smile on his face. He was getting good at this game. The man was seated at his desk, a quill in his hand, clearly engrossed in his work.

"Are you marking papers?" Harry asked curiously.

Snape looked up in annoyance. "No, Potter, I don't spend my entire life correcting abysmal homework handed in by students. All the more so when I myself didn't set the assignment."

"Oh."

The boy's vaguely dejected tone must've made the professor regret his words, for he went on, grumbling slightly," It's a potions formula. Experiments which I like to share with my colleagues."

"Really? Like with the Wolfsbane Potion?" Harry asked.

The Potions master stiffened. "More or less. You wanted to see me?"

"I…yes. I had something to ask you. I know I have to go back to Hogwarts, and you have to check it's safe and all that, but…do you think we have time to go to Godric's Hollow today?" the boy asked.

Snape lifted a questioning eyebrow. "Godric's Hollow? Is there something in particular you want to do there?"

"I'd like to visit my parents' graves. Other than…well, you know," Harry said, making a face.

Severus tapped his cheek with a finger. "Your memory of the place mustn't be a good one, I imagine. Was that really the first time you were there?"

The boy nodded. "This'll seem stupid, but I'd never thought of it before. Where my parents were buried, I mean. I know this seems a bit weird, but I'd really like to go there now, if you think it's not dangerous. And…where Sirius is too. And the Dursleys."

"Well, we're slightly early for All Saints Day," Severus murmured. "As for Black's grave, that won't be difficult. He's also buried at Godric's Hollow."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "Why? The Black family wasn't from there…right?"

"No," Snape admitted, "but Walburga managed to banish her eldest son from the family tree…and the family burial plot. I doubt he would've wanted to be interred beside them anyway. So Dumbledore arranged for him to be in the cemetery where your parents lie. Probably the most sensible thing to do, given the circumstances."

Harry nodded, suddenly unable to speak because of the huge lump in his throat.

"As for the Dursleys," the professor continued, pretending he'd not noticed anything, "they're buried in the cemetery at Little Whinging."

"You…how do you know that?" Harry croaked out.

Snape stared at him, his face impassive. "You'd already asked to visit their graves, after their deaths, so I sought out that information. I was simply waiting for you to want to go. Of course I'll take you there."

"Thanks," the boy said, swallowing hard.

"Do you have the documents?" Snape asked, waving his thanks away with a hand.

"Um, yes," Harry replied, his eyes carefully fixed on the desk lamp.

"Questions?" Snape asked casually.

"No, I don't think so. Maybe just…"

"Yes?"

Before Harry had the time to hold them back, the words were out. "Can I refuse?"

There was a moment of silence that seemed to last an eternity. Even though the professor's face betrayed nothing, it seemed to Harry that a strong flash of pain and disappointment had just fleeted across it.

"Surely," Severus said at last. "That's one solution amongst many. And whatever you decide, it won't change any of our other…arrangements, as long as they're acceptable to you."

Harry felt both relieved and terribly ungrateful. If the heat he felt creeping up his neck were any indication, he must've been bright red. Snape, though, stood before him as if he'd just simply asked him what was for supper.

"I…I'm sorry. I suppose I just need a bit of time to get used to the idea. No, that's not what I mean either. I want it, I want you to be…well, for it to work, you've no idea how much! But it's so…too much," he finished pitifully.

Severus' eyes softened. "You don't have to justify yourself, Harry. You're the main party involved, so it's up to you to decide what must be done…or not. I can perfectly understand your reservations. I think anyone in your place would want to think twice," Snape said with a slight smile.

But Harry wasn't fooled. "I'm not just anyone," he answered, "and I've already decided…I think. Merlin, I just feel like I'm going nutters. That's why I have to go there, you understand? To the cemetery."

Snape nodded. "Very well. Get your things, eat if you're hungry. I'll alert the Headmaster of our little trip."

"I'm not hungry. My cloak's still upstairs." He hesitated for an instant. "Say…your parents…where are they buried?"

Severus had turned to gather up his papers, and Harry could clearly see his shoulders stiffen before relaxing again. The Potions master turned to focus his black eyes on Harry's.

"Nowhere. They're lying in a common grave somewhere in Surry," he said icily.

Harry gaped at him, horrified. "You mean…you didn't…but they're your parents!"

Snape made a sarcastic and venomous face, his attention once again focused on his papers.

"'Spiteful and vindictive' were my grandfather's final words about me. A particularly sensible and perceptive wizard," he said, his voice oozing a malicious irony.

With an inaudible sigh, he turned completely toward Harry. "I've never claimed to be a good person, Harry, and you're aware of my past, probably better than anyone. I've no real appreciation of sacrosanct family loyalty, and pledge no allegiance to my bloodline. I choose my friends, my allies, and now my family. I'll harbor no ill will at all if you reject this dubious privilege, believe me."

His eyes closed, the boy shook his head. "No. I understand. At least I think I understand. It's just that…" It was his turn to sigh. "I took a walk in the park, and I found the graves. Your ancestors'. They _are_ your ancestors, aren't they?"

This time the blow seemed to fall even more heavily, and Severus fell into his armchair. Seeming resigned, he Summoned another armchair closer with an _Accio,_ then motioned for Harry to sit down at the other side of the desk.

"I suppose it had to come down to this sooner or later," he said bitterly. "And since we've now come to unpleasant revelations, just as well to finish it. Yes, those are my family's graves, on my mother's side. Ask your questions."

Harry felt his stomach ball up in a knot. He would've gladly taken a pass on this conversation, but Severus was right. He had to know. If he wanted to agree to the adoption, with full knowledge of whatever had happened, he had to get to the bottom of things. After all, whatever Snape had done, it wouldn't change anything between them, would it?

"If you have a family cemetery, then why aren't your parents there?" he asked at last. Snape lifted an eyebrow, obviously surprised by the question.

"Because I hated them," he said curtly, sinking deeper into his chair. "Next question?"

Harry uncomfortably cleared his throat. All of a sudden, he didn't much want to know anymore. Severus seemed to understand his discomfiture and, taking a deep breath, leant in over his desk with his hands clasped in front of him.

"I'm sorry. That was rather inappropriate of me. Even though at heart it's actually truthful. As you were able to see for yourself, my relationship with my parents was always devoid of love and affection. I suppose I tried to love them when I was a child, but it was not destined to last. They did all they could to make me miserable, and at the time of their deaths, I believed I owed them nothing. I still believe that now. Be that as it may, I didn't want them here. I liked this place, and my grandfather would've hated the idea of a Muggle being interred here. He'd also disowned my mother, although I doubt her standing with him was ever very strong. When they died, I simply refused to take care of their funerals, and they were buried in the nearest common grave, without a ceremony of any sort. I doubt anyone mourned them, apart from the owner of the corner pub," Snape finished, a small, bitter smile on his face.

"I understand," Harry murmured once again. "It's just…sad."

Snape nodded. "I suppose I should've accepted the idea that death wipes away wrongs done, but I've never been one to practice forgiveness, and I was even less so at that time. I went to your grandparents' funeral, though."

"And what did my mother think about all this?" Harry asked.

Severus looked away. "I told her they'd been buried elsewhere. She didn't question it. I think she suspected something, but preferred not to know."

"Do you think she would've disapproved?"

"Certainly. Lily, in contrast to myself, forgave everyone. Well, almost…she would've certainly persuaded me to bury them with dignity, if only so I wouldn't have regrets about it one day," Snape replied.

"But you haven't regretted it, have you?" Harry asked.

"Not for an instant," Severus said with a measure of venom in his voice.

The boy shuddered and closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "Your grandfather was named Arthus, wasn't he?"

"Yes," the Potions master agreed. "You must've seen his grave; it's one of the most recent in the cemetery."

"You knew him?"

"A bit. Enough. One of those fanatical purebloods. He would've surely appreciated my initiative in taking the Mark if he'd lived to see it. As it happened, he'd been dead for years and the small amount of time I spent in his company was sufficient for me to never think of putting flowers at his grave," Severus said from between his teeth. "He was an arrogant and merciless man. Incidentally, he was very close to his father."

"Not really a recommendation," Harry said as he made a knowing face.

"No," Snape admitted, he eyes lost in thought. "He never missed an opportunity to humiliate me. The half-blood who'd dishonored his noble family…but despite it all, still the only heir to his line, whether he accepted it or not."

"And he never changed his mind, given that? I'm sure if things had turned out that way for him, Malfoy would've simply changed his stance. He would've decided that half-bloods were the wave of the future, or something of the sort," Harry said.

"Most likely indeed," Snape agreed. "But not Arthus. One doesn't descend from the royal line of the famous King Arthur, only to lower oneself by halves. Bastard I was, bastard I remained, even after my uncle's death, the last hope of preserving the line." He allowed himself a small, sly smile. "In his time, there were stables in the park, as the Prince family traditionally raised race horses. My grandfather insisted I learn to ride when I came here to spend holidays. But it was unacceptable that I sully his precious purebreds. No, to that end he bought a mixed breed horse, a vicious and vindictive beast. A parallel that was in no way accidental," he laughed shortly. "During the entire time of the lessons, he repeatedly pointed out how perfectly the horse suited me. But in the end, he hadn't been wrong. We had much in common, including a certain desire to prove we were both worth more than the others. The day we bested Arthus and his favorite purebred, he had my horse put down. 'Spiteful and vindictive'… I wonder a great deal whom I owe that to," he gritted out.

On the other side of the desk, Harry sat speechless for a moment.

"What was his name?" he suddenly asked.

"Who? The horse? His name was Fiasco. Obviously," Snape said with one of his mirthless smiles.

"Obviously," Harry murmured. "It's not very polite, but…your family was nutters, you know? I mean, between him, your mother, your father…wasn't there anyone out of all of them that you loved? You said you liked to come here; I doubt it was for the family atmosphere."

"Actually, yes," Severus confessed. "It wasn't for my grandfather, nor even my grandmother, but my great grandfather lived as long as his son, and he was very different. We got on very well. His name was Mordred, but you mustn't have seen his grave; it's directly across from Arthus'."

"Arthus. Mordred," Harry said pensively. "You family really descends from King Arthur? The one from the legend?"

"That's what the Princes claimed, in any case," Snape said scornfully. "I don't know if it's true. I never looked into those files."

"But maybe it's not too late!" the boy exclaimed enthusiastically. "Did you keep the records?"

"No," Severus said curtly. "Besides, I lost all interest in those stories long ago. Everything was lost in the destruction of the old Manor."

"The old Manor?" It seemed to Harry that Snape tensed again. "Oh. You said the Manor was recent, didn't you? That it wasn't a family dwelling?"

"Indeed," the wizard said evasively, "the old structure was destroyed not long after the deaths of Arthus and Mordred."

"They…died at the same time?" Harry asked, all the while fearing the answer.

"As perfect Princes and faithful to the legend, they killed each other. I suppose one might consider this anecdote as the pinnacle of the worthy line of Princes. Aside from a few similar details, like the fact that the kingdom wasn't plunged into chaos. They only succeeded in destroying part of the old Manor, even though it was more a matter of a partially ruined cottage than anything else."

"They weren't rich? Like the Malfoys, I mean?"

"No, they were penniless nobles. The lived principally off horse-raising, a venture that's not very profitable these days, I'm afraid," Snape replied.

"But you said the old Manor was destroyed, so, this one...?" Harry began, sensing this was the burning question. And, in confirmation, Snape's eyes darkened.

"Very well," he said, "let's start this story at the beginning. In 1972, Mordred and Arthus Prince killed each other in a remarkable duel. The property should've gone to Eileen Snape, but Arthus had disinherited her by the book. To his great regret, he couldn't do the same with me, being the last of the line. The estate thus came to me. Despite all her efforts, my mother was never able to step across the boundaries of the park, even after her father's death. Out of spite, she refused that I set a foot here either, which I accepted until 1975 thereabouts, when Lily and I decided we'd like to spend a bit of time alone in the countryside during the holidays. After my parents' deaths, I returned here several times alone, preferring to live in what remained of the old Manor, rather than Spinner's End."

He took a deep breath.

"When I officially entered into…Voldemort's service, Prince Hall was my official residence. As much as one could call it that. The horses for the most part had turned wild; I gave some of them to breeders, and I granted the house-elves their freedom, as I was weary of their complaining. But I liked this place, the park, the slightly gloomy atmosphere of the old cottage. It was, after all, what seemed most like a family home to me. Voldemort had already come to inspect the place and he approved of my choice, concerning the estate at least. The cottage, though…" He cleared his throat. "Well, one day, I brought my master some information—valuable information that could change everything. By way of a reward, he offered to build me a residence 'befitting my station.' One like every Death Eater should have. So he had the rest of the cottage destroyed, and had the Manor built a short distance away. He even christened it, in my name. At the time, I saw that as a certain mark of acknowledgement—my Muggle father's name set above that of an old pureblood family. The real reasons were clearly otherwise."

"This information," Harry said hoarsely, "it was the prophecy, wasn't it?"

Snape's eyes became pained. "Yes," he breathed out. "The price of this Manor was your parents' lives. Betrayal. You understand now why it belongs more to you than it could ever belong to me."

Harry clenched his teeth. "I don't want it."

He watched Snape's face tense. "I understand."

"No," Harry forced himself to go on. "I'm not talking about you. Or about this place. I like the Manor, honestly, and all the rest of it. I don't want it at that price. I don't want all this guilt, all these horrors, all of its past. Couldn't we just take things as they are, leave all the rest of it behind? They're dead, you didn't want that, and none of that can be changed. It's enough, now. If need be, you've already paid enough in my eyes. I don't want to live here, thinking about how you were a Death Eater, how the Manor was built by Voldemort, that it was all built on ruins. I want to start something, build something, not…harp on the rest of it. I know my parents forgave you, and if even I don't hold things against you…well, let it drop, all right? I've had enough ghosts and nightmares. It'll never work like that."

On the other side of the desk, Severus had stilled, an expression of pure stupefaction on his face. Harry was almost tempted to smile. He'd managed to make Snape drop that mask of impassivity.

The professor blinked and quickly regained his composure.

"Well, Mr. Potter, this is a game that two can play," he said slowly. "I understand why you wish to visit your family's graves, and I approve. But I've not forgotten, either, how Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort attacked your mind and managed to make you believe you were responsible for certain deaths. I'm not the only one here who needs to leave the past where it belongs."

Harry laughed sheepishly. "I suppose we'll need some good family therapy," he said. Then, seeing Snape lift an eyebrow, he added, "I know. Easy to say, but not so easy to do. Will you go with me to see the graves?"

"Of course, stupid child," Severus answered gently.

Harry smiled outright this time. How was it that when things seemed the most complicated, they suddenly became simple again?

Seized by a sudden impulse, he changed into a black ball of fur and in a single leap was on Snape's lap, curling up as he waited for the familiar hand to begin to pet his fur. Which it did, after an instant of hesitation.

"You're truly incredible," the man sighed, the relief audible in his voice. The comforting hand lingered for a long and blissful moment. "Ready for the grand tour?"

The cat meowed, then climbed to perch on his master's shoulder.

"No, Harry, not like that," the professor said, taking him by the scruff of his neck before setting him on the floor. "You'll go to see your family on your own two feet, and with dignity. Take a shower, change clothes, and meet me in the laboratory."

The cat blinked and took off at a run, leaving behind a pensive Snape, who was suddenly overtaken by exhaustion. He'd always known he'd have to explain the Manor to Harry one day, but he'd sincerely believed that the explanation would mark the boy's definitive departure from the house, if not from his life. But no. If the boy still had some reservations on being adopted, he seemed on the other hand to have adopted his professor.

Snape let out a low groan as he rubbed his forearm. The sensation certainly wasn't an unfamiliar one, this gnawing pain that radiated persistently from the Mark to spread through his body, demanding its due. His master was exercising his rights to his person.

But this wasn't a tyrannical summons of Voldemort either; it was clearly a mark of possessiveness, but stamped with affection and insecurity.

Harry.

Harry who especially must not become aware of what was happening before everything was sorted out. Merlin, he only hoped the boy would learn to control his powers quickly, before these demonstrations of affection truly became uncomfortable.

Without waiting any longer, he strode toward his room. If he had to pay Lily a visit, it would be in suitable attire, and after all, wasn't he supposed to set a good example?

When the boy joined him a half-hour later in the laboratory, he was surprisingly solemn and exceptionally well-groomed. He was wearing clean robes that Severus recognized as one of those purchased a few days before in Diagon Alley.

Satisfied, Snape nodded. "Where would you like to start?"

"My parents," the boy quickly replied. "Does Dumbledore think there's any risk in going to Godric's Hollow?"

"Albus himself has taken charge of the village's surveillance since that night. There's nothing to fear there," Snape answered.

"All right. My clothes…are they all right?" Harry asked with a hesitant look.

Snape went to him to adjust his collar. "They're perfect," he said seriously. Harry smiled timidly. "Are you ready?"

"Ready," the boy replied. Snape placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, and the two of them Disapparated with a loud _crack._

The cemetery at Godric's Hollow had hardly changed since the last time they'd been there, and the Potions master held back a shudder. Beside him, Harry seemed frozen in place, and moved a bit closer to him.

Sliding an arm around Harry's shoulders, Snape stepped forward, pulling the boy along with him.

"Have you come here before?" Harry breathed out. "Besides that day, I mean."

"Yes, once," Severus said. "A long time ago."

"For the funeral?"

"That would've hardly been appropriate. No, I came later, alone," Snape explained.

Harry glanced around them. They were now at the entrance to the cemetery, the one they'd had so much trouble getting through on that infamous night.

"The house is close by, isn't it?" he asked.

"It's nearby on the outskirts of the village, yes. At least what's left of it."

"Could I take a look at it?"

"Of course," Snape said. Without hesitation, he led the boy toward the remnants of the cottage. Merlin, he knew the way only too well…and the ruins seemed even more decrepit now than when he'd seen them several weeks before. They stepped over the threshold together this time, however.

"I sense magic," Harry murmured. "My parents', I suppose. It's still here…is that possible?"

"Of course. That's what allowed us to flee, the night when Voldemort decided to enact that macabre little scene. His own magic wasn't enough, up against what protected this house…its remains."

"You…you'd already been here, before it was destroyed?" the boy asked with a shiver.

"Yes," Snape admitted reluctantly. "It was a beautiful place."

Now, though, all that was left was a pile of stones, a few charred beams, and brambles growing from between the russet floor tiles.

"I suppose everything was destroyed in the explosion," Harry said. "It's a shame; I would've liked to have had some souvenirs. A painting, or something like that…" He shrugged as Snape thoughtfully looked at the cottage walls.

"Actually, it's rather strange…I came here the night your parents were killed," he said with an apologetic look, "and even though the roof and walls had buckled from the explosion, I recall that the furniture and most of the other things were still intact. I wonder what could've become of them. Albus might be able to answer that question."

Harry shook his head. "I guess I was happy here. I'd really like to remember that. Do you know where my room was?"

"Upstairs," Snape said as he pointed to what remained of the charred staircase.

"It's weird, but I feel good here," Harry murmured. "I shouldn't. It's where they died."

Severus squeezed his shoulder. "There was much love in this place. Some believe that walls remember…even when nothing much is left."

"Does all this, the ruins…still belong to me?" the boy asked.

"Yes, I assume so."

"That's good." He brushed away some wooden debris with his foot, and then bent down when he saw the reflection of something sliver. A fork, he noted, as he picked up the object—an old silver fork. He let out a long breath as he realized he was unable to leave the damaged and tarnished utensil behind. The same way Neville had kept that sweet wrapper his mother had given him.

Snape took it gently from his hand, before giving it back to him again—a few spells later—straightened and polished. Harry thanked him with a pitiful smile.

"Come," the professor said as he pushed him toward the door. "We'll come back later if you like."

Without a word, they headed for the little cemetery, the cold wind whipping at their cloaks and faces. Like a robot, Harry let Severus guide him among the graves, reading without really seeing the names along the way. Most included a short epitaph, and nothing really set this cemetery apart from any of the Muggle ones he might've seen.

Snape stopped suddenly, and Harry blinked, dreading to look down at the gravestone in front of him.

James Potter—1960-1981

Lily Evans Potter—1960-1981

_Omnia vincit amor_

Twenty-one, he realized. His parents had been twenty-one when they'd died. Born the same year, died the same day. Snape had been their age, and Harry was all of a sudden certain that the man would've liked to have been able to read his own name and dates on this gravestone, to have died that day himself. Harry turned to face him and saw that he'd closed his eyes. Was he praying? Probably not. But he didn't like the overwhelming sadness rolling off of him, and went to stand at his side, his shoulder touching Snape's arm. Snape opened his eyes again, seeming suddenly old and tired.

Harry swallowed. "Omnia vincit amor…is that Latin?" I understand Amor…" he said.

"_Love conquers all," _Severus translated.

"Oh." Harry frowned. Because that wasn't true, was it? They'd loved, and here they were, dead and buried. But he'd survived, of course. That was probably all that was important, even if at that moment he wasn't convinced of it. All this suffering, and for what? He didn't even have any memory of them, outside of photos and stories, and their recent ghostly apparitions. He couldn't even remember having ever been really happy over the course of his short life. He certainly hadn't been at the Dursleys', and although Hogwarts had changed his life, the years that had just passed had known their share of tragedy.

And now Sirius. If he'd not had Severus and these recent months with him, Harry wasn't sure he could've stood being here in front of his parents' graves. He shook his head, trying to rouse himself. He'd come here for a precise reason…he'd dressed and groomed himself well. All that he really lacked were flowers.

Beside him, Snape seemed to read his mind. Lifting his wand, he murmured an incantation, and in the next instant dozens of lilies sprang from the ground and encircled the graves.

"Thanks," Harry murmured, his stomach knotted. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat, then stepped toward the graves.

"Dad, Mum, I'm sorry I haven't come before now," he began. "I don't know if you know about things…I think you do, but life hasn't been all that easy lately. Not since you died, in fact. I have so many things to tell you, but it seems a bit stupid to do it here like this."

"It isn't," Snape said softly from behind him. "Take your time, Harry, I won't be far off."

Then with one last look at the grave, he quietly left. Behind him, he could see that Harry had sat and was speaking again. Merlin, it was so pathetic…how was it that that old fool Albus had never thought to bring Harry here? Had he thought the boy would break in two if he saw the marble headstone? Ridiculous.

Even if he had to confess that coming here was making him more uncomfortable than he would've thought. He'd only come here twice before: the first time, a few months after Lily's funeral, to ask her forgiveness, and then a few weeks ago, when he'd had to force his way through the gravestones and Death Eaters. Merlin, he even noticed the impact of those recent spells he'd avoided on certain of the headstones. Strangely, Harry didn't seem to be drawn into that past event. But upon consideration, he'd been so weakened that day that he mustn't have had much memory of it.

Which wasn't the case with Severus. And those names on the gravestone, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter…what a sacrilege. And that quote. Virgil. Lily's favorite poet. Who had been responsible for putting it there? Bloody hell, if only Lily hadn't married Potter, they wouldn't have trusted that stupid rat; if she'd listened to Severus, he and Harry wouldn't be here now, he and her orphan son, coming to visit their graves….

He groaned in frustration. It would be a better use of his time to find the final resting place of that imbecile Black, who'd decided it worthwhile to distinguish himself, once again, by playing with a lethal artifact in the middle of the Ministry of Magic. That animal had never had the least bit of a survival instinct, and he'd earned his fate. All that was left was his death weighing on the soul of his young protégé, and Snape felt cruelly bitter about that.

Lost in his thoughts, an eye on Harry still sitting cross-legged in front of his parents' graves, he almost didn't see the huge white dog hurtle into his legs. Snape swore and brandished his wand before changing his mind. No, not necessary…this dog wouldn't do him any harm. The translucent form had stopped in front of him, its tongue hanging out, clearly amused and satisfied with itself.

"Black," he hissed, "always in the wrong place at the wrong time! I see there are habits that not even death can change."

"That's not what you said the last time you were here, Snivellus!" the animal answered, in that typical voice that never failed to irritate Snape, whatever was said. And the dog hadn't even seemed to open its mouth.

Severus crossed his arms on his chest. "And to what do I owe this honor?" he said icily. "If it's for a thank you…"

"No," growled the dog, "even miracles have their limits. I came to see you about Harry. No need to waste time with sarcastic remarks; I'd adore having a little verbal duel, but I won't be able to stay long."

"In that case, best go straight to see Harry," Severus said, jerking his chin toward the boy.

"Well, no," the dog sighed. Could dogs sigh? It didn't matter. Black had come to talk to him, and he had to listen. "I can't do that…it would upset him too much. He didn't take my death too well, right?" Black asked.

"The death of the only person he thought of as a real father figure, Merlin forgive me?" Snape gritted out. "Cleary not. But he's coming to terms with his loss. Slowly. Given the circumstances, that in itself is a miracle."

"So no need to upset him any more," Black said, his eyes filled with regret for the small figure with its back to them. "Anyway, he's not the one I came to see. I know about the adoption. We all do."

"Merlin, even dead, you can't stop being a perfect nuisance, can you?" Severus hissed. "But that's of no importance. None. I don't need your blessing to do what I have to do, and given your lack of a certain…consistency, I doubt you're able to sign any papers, whether it be in my favor or disfavor. Go to hell, Black, and stay there."

The dog bared its teeth, but the Potions master didn't bat an eyelid.

"Stop with the big talk, Sni…Severus," he said. "I didn't come here to threaten you or convince you not to do it…quite the opposite, in fact."

Raising an eyebrow, Snape looked the dog up and down. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No, just my life. What do you need, a signed confession?" the dog barked. "Impossible, as you've just pointed out. All three of us have followed Harry since his birthday, as much as we could…from near and far, like that night in the cemetery. He needs you, Snape. And even if it costs me to admit it, you're the best one for it. But try to take good care of him, you hear? If anything happens to him…"

"What, the mutt will bite?" Severus sneered. "Has it escaped your notice that I've been working to keep the boy safe and sound for two months now? It's not the easiest of tasks, even if I must acknowledge that your help was more than appreciated," he confessed at last. The dog hung its head, obviously satisfied.

"Excellent timing, wasn't it? But I don't have much time. There's something else. You have to take care of it, Snape, with all you've got, since I couldn't. As hard as it is to admit, Harry loves you. I don't know why, but it's true. The problem…is that he loves us too."

"Jealous?" Severus said with a slight smile.

"And to think Albus never stopped talking about how intelligent you were…Merlin. I wonder if all of this isn't a waste of time. No, you ex-Death Eater, I'm not jealous. Harry needs someone, and if it has to be you…" The dog looked away. "So be it. You're better at it than I ever was. I was never able to stop seeing James in him, and believe me, I muddled things up a bit. I always knew I'd be a bad father…godfather, yeah, that suited me, but…"

"Very astute of you, Black!" Snape hissed.

"Yes, yes, exactly," Sirius went on. "Harry. He wants you to be his father, all right?"

Severus stiffened, but nodded.

"Well, be it. Go on with it. You have my bloody blessing, and that of Lily and James," Black growled.

"Wonderful," Severus said between his teeth. "Brightens my day. And it's the dog who's been sent with the news."

"Lily and James can't come here right now. They're over there with Harry, but not…like this. I'm the one who passed through the Veil, after all."

"Coherent as usual, Black," Snape said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Am I being given a bloody revelation, or just hearing the ravings of a ghost?"

"I'm not a ghost," the dog barked. "Not really anyway, and that's the problem! Voldemort, what happened with his powers, Harry…something didn't turn out right."

"Oh, really?" Severus said sarcastically.

"…and now, he's holding us here. Harry!" Sirius finished, suddenly frantic. "All three of us passed through the Veil, but we weren't supposed to stay. We just wanted to assure ourselves that everything would go well for Harry, that's all. But now, we're stuck here. I mean, not necessarily in the cemetery, but…doesn't matter. You have to do something, Snape."

"Like what?" the Potions master said, perplexed. He'd expected anything but this…

"He has to feel safe. At least that's what Lily thinks."

"I'm doing my best, but things haven't been quite that simple lately, between Voldemort, Loki, Malfoy, and even Dumbledore's genius ideas…"

"Snape, Snape, you can talk your nonsense later!" the dog barked. "Take care of Harry, and while we're on the subject, the Great Nutter knows about it."

"The Great… Voldemort? Knows about it? Knows about what?" Severus asked.

"The adoption. And about the Mark as well."

Snape reflexively brought his hand up to his forearm, and swore beneath his breath as he cast a furtive look at Harry, who hadn't budged. "That's not good," he breathed out.

"Of course it's not good. But it's better for you to be ready."

"I'm already prepared for anything," Snape sighed, "but this change in master isn't going to make things easier for me."

"Don't worry about that, Snape," Sirius said soothingly, which made the professor lift an eyebrow. "He'll understand. And he won't take advantage of it, he's a good boy."

"That's not what concerns me…" Severus began. "And since when do you have a semi-relevant opinion on everything, Black?"

"When you're dead, you have time to think about things," Sirius said philosophically. "Including the stupid things you've done. A few months ago, I would've never imagined saying that, but…I'm sorry, Snape. About Hogwarts, the trap with Remus, and all the rest of it. It was rotten of us, considering how Lily…well, Lily… Well, I'm not particularly proud of myself, and James neither. And listen, about Remus…forget that, would you? Clear the slate. He didn't have anything to do with it."

Snape felt his temper begin to rise. "Lupin _never _has anything to do with it, which is fine with him. And I've no need of your regrets, your apologies, or your blessing anymore. I never had the slightest interest in you, such as you all were, and you certainly aren't going to change now. You're dead, and I agree with you on one point: it's high time that you all go back to the right side of the Veil. Harry must live, and live in the present. You have my complete gratitude for your help, past and future, if it comes to that. But don't ask me to revere you. You know my position, and it won't change."

He read a flash of regret in the dog's eyes. "Makes no difference," he said at last. "Remus is just a victim. He deserves another chance."

"He and _his son_ do nothing but threaten the life of _mine_!" Snape growled.

The dog hung its head, seeming amused and sad at once. "It all ends much too fast, Snape. You find yourself much too quickly on the other side of the Veil. So, take care of him…just keep doing that, Slytherin. It's a good job for a such a bloody bat."

He took a few steps away, turning his back to Harry. "Oh, and one of these days, think about changing shampoos. It's important for kids to be proud of their…parents. Use me for an example!"

Without waiting for the string of invective, he disappeared between two graves, leaving a furious but bewildered Snape.

He'd never been afraid of ghosts nor apparitions, and he'd had time to get used to the idea that Lily and the Marauders hadn't had their final say. But this?

He turned toward Harry. Clearly the boy must've sensed something, because he was watching Snape, his expression intrigued. Plastering a mask of indifference on his face, Snape walked toward him.

By the time he got there, Harry had stood and gestured for him to join him. Snape obeyed, a vague anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

"Dad, Mum," Harry began, "Here's Severus. What I meant was that he's my new father. I know you would be happy for me and that you'd approve. You can't imagine how important this is to me…but that doesn't change that you'll always be my parents. I hope you rest in peace and that you don't regret…anything."

This time it was the boy who put an arm around Severus' waist and leant against him, as if looking for comfort. At that moment, Snape felt like Harry was only ten, and in desperate need of making up for a lost childhood—something that didn't bother Snape at all. Once again, he placed an arm around the boy's shoulders and pulled him against himself.

_Despite everything, Lily, _he thought. _I'm terribly sorry, James Potter._

"Black's grave isn't very far," he murmured. Harry nodded.

"Goodbye," he said to Lily and James' graves. "I'll come back."

Coincidence or not, a gust of wind blew just then, surrounding them in a swirl of dead leaves, gently ruffling their hair. Harry smiled and, without a word, they headed for the corner of the cemetery that Snape had just left.

Black's grave, in front of which the dog had found Snape, was one of the most recent and also the most somber.

"Hey, Sirius," the boy began. Severus could hear the tears in his voice and clenched his teeth. If the mutt decided to show himself now... "I guess you already know about things too," Harry continued, "after all that's happened here. I miss you. Do you remember the day you offered for me to come live with you? I think that was the best day of my life. Things didn't turn out that way, though, but now…I have a new father. I suppose you wouldn't be totally happy to know who…" He directed a wan smile at Severus. "…but I'm happy. And I know that's what counted the most to you. So even if it's not with you, know that I have a family now, and a home. Besides Grimmauld Place, I mean. I hope you've forgiven me for what happened at the Ministry. I was really stupid…and the mirror, well…."

He pulled an object from his pocket and handed it to Snape. "That one was Sirius'," he explained. "Mine is broken, but it still works. They're two-way mirrors. They could've been useful if I'd realized what they were before…." He sighed and turned to the grave again.

"Is that all right, Sirius? That way, if I have a problem, I'll be able to call Severus."

Snape would've found the monologue decidedly childish if he hadn't just spoken to the mutt only minutes before. Merlin, the boy had such a need to feel forgiven, for the approval of those he loved, dead though they were. Nothing surprising about his refusal to let them go. He inspected the mirror Harry'd given him. A good thing, this artifact; it would certainly be useful to them. He should see to repairing Harry's, though, so he didn't hurt himself.

"Thanks for everything, Sirius," the boy said at last. "I promise to do my best. And if I come across Bellatrix…"

Severus squeezed the boy's shoulder, but as a warning this time.

"If you come across Lestrange, you promise not to play games sidestepping her curses," he said sternly.

"That too," Harry agreed. "Bye, Sirius. Don't forget me…"

Snape held back a grimace. The crux of the matter…it remained to be seen how the young wizard, in spite of himself, could utilize his powers to control the ghosts of the ones he loved around him. Merlin, could the situation be any more complicated?

"Would you like to go straight to the Dursleys' graves, or do you prefer to wait?" he asked.

"Might as well do it now," the boy replied. "Though I'd like to come back here later to meet people. Some of them must've known my parents when we lived here."

"Probably, but it most likely wouldn't be very safe to question them, given the times," Severus pointed out. "You're going to have much to do this year, Harry, but if you're set on it, we can come back here next summer, if things have calmed down, and stay in the village for a while."

Harry nodded. "I just hope it won't be the same sort of neighborhood as Privet Drive."

"I doubt it," Snape answered. "Ready?"

The boy held onto him firmly in answer. "You know what? I don't think I'll ever learn to Apparate. I feel like I'm going to leave my skin behind every time."

"Is it better in your feline form?"

"Um, yeah, I think so," Harry replied after thinking for an instant. "But I doubt that's a good idea in the middle of a Muggle cemetery."

"I'm going to Apparate us into a safe place, in any case."

"That'll work," the boy said with a shrug. "Shows you're learning."

Satisfied, Snape agreed. A second later, they appeared in the most remote corner of a little local cemetery with rows of neatly lined-up graves.

"Merlin," Harry murmured as he stepped forward, "it's like a dead version of Privet Drive. You could almost say someone comes every Sunday and hoovers the aisles."

"Not very picturesque, I agree," Severus said. By chance, the place was empty and he remembered the placement of the graves precisely. They wouldn't have to spend more than a few minutes here, but he hardly found the place pleasant…the absence of magic, perhaps…

As they headed for the row where the Dursleys lay, Snape felt his uneasiness deepen. Something wasn't right here, and it wasn't just the man-made aspect of the graves or the plastic flowers; it was something else. It wasn't until they reached the Dursleys' graves that he finally figured it out: it wasn't the absence of magic that disturbed him, but its presence, infinitesimal at first, but which grew more pronounced the farther along they went.

"Harry, about-face, get away from there!" he shouted to the boy who'd gone ahead of him by several dozen feet.

But he knew right away that he was too late. The spell awaiting the boy had just activated and alerted the one who'd placed it there. The answer wasn't long in coming: a _crack_ rang out, then a figure appeared that made the hair on the back of Snape's neck bristle.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

She didn't even waste time screaming out a hideous laugh; she rushed for Harry, teeth bared, a greedy and triumphant gleam in her eyes. Severus had just enough time to pull out his wand before the witch grabbed the stunned boy by the arm. Her victory, though, was short-lived. It seemed to Snape that Harry suddenly began to glow with a strange green light, and Bellatrix was thrown backwards with a cry of rage. The green didn't disappear, though: it detached itself from the boy to form a protective aura around him, leaving Severus flabbergasted.

He knew that color, and he knew the spell that had caused it.

Protego. _His_ Protego, to be exact. But he hadn't done anything; he hadn't had the time! Bellatrix turned a hate-filled look toward him, before lifting her wand as she recovered from her surprise.

This time Severus didn't give her the chance. Closing the distance between himself and his son with a single leap, he was the one to grab Harry this time, and without an instant's hesitation, Apparated to the Manor.

For a moment, he was afraid that the shield would repel him too, but nothing came of it, and with bitter satisfaction he saw Harry appear at his side in the laboratory.

To his great surprise, however, the boy didn't seem happy to have been pulled away.

"No!" he shouted at once. "Back, we have to go back, it was Bellatrix!"

"Yes, I noticed that, stupid child," Snape growled, trying to push away the boy, who was frantically holding on to him, waiting to Apparate again.

"You don't understand, it's Bellatrix; she killed Sirius, I have to do something! Not…not kill her, but capture her at least! Please, you know I'm right, what're you waiting for?"

"She'll already be gone, Harry," Severus said calmly, refusing to meet his eyes.

Realizing he was right, the boy took a step backward, his jaw clenched. "Why did you do that?" he asked, the reproach clear in his voice. "I'm not made out of glass, she couldn't do anything to me; we should've put her out of action!"

"Sometimes, one must know how to make a choice," the professor said soberly.

"What choice? I don't understand!"

"Myself fighting Bellatrix, or Apparating here with you! Do you think I don't regret not being able to do something to that fanatic, one against one…" He shook his head. "It was one or the other, Harry. In case you've not yet understood, my magic no longer allows me to use my power in an unlimited fashion. Something you should perhaps consider before deciding if you should sign those papers," he said as he gestured toward the parchments.

"Severus, _I_ can do it, I'm convinced of it! Just let me try—take me by the arm!" Harry cried, beside himself.

For a few long moments, Snape scrutinized him, more fatigued by these repeated Apparations than he wanted to admit. Yes, perhaps: if Bellatrix had still been there, if the boy had better mastered his powers, if he'd been better prepared at dueling…but even in that case, Severus would've been unable to Side-Along Apparate him, his reserves depleted for the day.

He turned wearily for the stairs, feeling more useless and disheartened than he had in a long while. "Go rest," he said to the boy. "It's been a long day."

"Wait, don't go!" Harry cried. "I have to do it! Please! If you love me, if you really want me to be your son, then take me back there. That's all I ask."

Severus almost literally froze. For several seconds, the threat hung between them as neither made a move. Then, without turning back, Snape continued on his way.

"Go back to Hogwarts. Explain to Dumbledore what happened. I'll join you later."

And without a backward look, he closed the door behind him.

* * *

First of all, a big thank to Raewhit, without whom nothing would have been possible! IF you don't know it yet, my dear translator is also a famous fanfic writer, who is now competiting in the Snarry Last Drabble Writer Standing contest. I don't think that the fics are online yet, but I strongly urge you to read her wonderful fics and hey, vote for her of course ;-)

I am taking the opportunity, as this translation is going on fast, to vent a bit of my anguish here. I have not been telling this to the French readers who are asking for the next chapter, but I have been ( am ) a bit stuck right now for a reason that never occurred to me before… well, I've had this 'I have no idea of how to put things' block, the 'what I am going to write in this chapter?' block, the 'life is overwhelming' excuse, and of course the 'too many ideas, I can't decide where to start' block.

But recently, as Shadow celebrated his 2nd birthday (yay to him! Good cat!), I took the opportunity to re-read the whole story so that I was sure I hadn't forgot some plot element somewhere ( there are so many things going on…).

And here: the 'oh my god, this story sucks' block. I mean, I am the most immodest fanfic author ever, I love my story because I enjoy writing it so much, you know? But reading all this, there were moments I was thinking 'please tell me that I didn't actually write this. And this. And oh my god, I've got to change name and leave the country right now…'

And then, in a matter of a week or so, two people wrote to me to ask me if they could translate the story into their language ( namely, Polish and German), and once again all this thanks to Raewhit, as they are translating from the English version. So, I am so very grateful, to you all for your reviews, translations, everything… because hey, even though real life is finally starting to look better, Shadow still means so much to me!

So, that's it. Tonight I'm shutting WoW down and back to keyboard. And cats. And… ah, well, were I left the story in a very teenage embarrassing moment!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and see you soon for more cat hair balls!


	41. Chapter 41 Dirty Little Secrets

Chapter Forty-one: Dirty Little Secrets

Harry stood motionless for a moment as he contemplated the door, his fists clenched and his breath short. How dare he! Snape had gone, leaving him in the lurch like an old cauldron, without any intention of helping him. And all because he didn't have enough strength? But _Harry_ had it! If only he knew how to Apparate…

Snape had been right about one thing, though: he had to go find Dumbledore. Wasting no time, he threw a handful of Floo powder into the grate and shouted out his destination.

His frantic eyes quickly found the Headmaster, who frowned when he saw him.

"Harry, everything all right? Where is Professor Snape?"

"Went to rest, I suppose," he replied. "Listen, I absolutely have to go back to Little Whinging cemetery right away! Bellatrix attacked us and she might still be there!"

The furrows in the Headmaster's forehead deepened even more. "Sit down, my boy, and explain everything."

"No, you don't understand, we have to do it right away," the boy urged him. But unsuccessfully.

"Harry, if Bellatrix attacked you and failed, she wouldn't stay and wait for reinforcements. I'll send someone to check, though."

He took his turn to thrust his head into the green flames of the Floo, then reappeared a few moments later.

"Tonks and Mad-Eye are on their way to inspect the cemetery. Now, if you'll explain?" he asked as he pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

Harry reluctantly sat down. "Professor Snape agreed to take me to see my parents' graves, and Sirius' and the Dursleys'," he began.

"Indeed, that's what he told me," Dumbledore said. "I assume all went well at Godric's Hollow?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose. I got to talk to them. It's probably stupid, but I wanted to tell them about Severus. You know, the adoption."

Dumbledore nodded. "I imagine the idea appeals to you?" he asked, but Harry only frowned.

"Yeah, sure. But I thought…I don't know. I thought he really wanted to do it as well. But apparently, that's not the case."

"And what would make you think that?"

"I asked him to take me to the cemetery_, now,_ so I could fight Bellatrix. I told him how important it was to me, and he refused, making the excuse that he was too tired! But he only Apparated us from one place to another; that couldn't have exhausted him so much," Harry protested.

"Apparating with a passenger _is _exhausting, Harry, especially over long distances. Do you realize that Severus transported you from one end of England to the other? And how many times did you Apparate?"

"From the Manor to Godric's Hollow, then from Godric's Hollow to Little Whinging, and from there back to the Manor again."

"From the south to the north, and back again, then. Harry, must I remind you of his current condition?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Harry lowered his head, ashamed. "No. It's just that…Bellatrix…I could've had her if I'd had the time; she couldn't have done anything to me!"

Across from him, the Headmaster thoughtfully stroked his beard. "Explain to me."

"Well, we got to the cemetery, and Severus pointed out where the Dursleys' graves were. I took off, just ahead of him. I think there was something…a spell that alerted Bellatrix. Severus shouted for me to turn around right before she showed up, and she Apparated just a few feet from me. She literally threw herself and tried to grab me—I think she wanted to kidnap me, but something happened—that green light—and she jumped back like she'd been shocked! The light stayed, and I knew she couldn't do anything to me; I was going to draw my wand, but Severus didn't give me a chance, and Apparated us to the Manor. Afterward, he refused to take me back. He told me to come tell you," the boy finished.

"Impressive, very impressive," Dumbledore murmured. "Professor Snape was right, Harry: trying anything else would've been unwise."

"But capturing Bellatrix…"

"Would've required a fight, however short, which would've been beyond Severus' abilities just then. It had to be done, my boy, and I doubt Severus was any more pleased by the situation than you," the Headmaster said sternly.

"I think I really put my foot in it," Harry said as he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what came over me. I wanted so much to see Bellatrix caught…we'd just left Sirius' grave, and…" His voice was suddenly hoarse, and he stopped.

"And emotion took the upper hand," Dumbledore concluded. "I'm sure Severus will understand. After all, who's never had to deal with their child's impulsiveness?"

Harry sighed, distraught. "All things considered, I don't think it was a very good day," he said. "I should've sensed the trap; I should've reacted faster." Snape might not have much power right now, but _he_ did.

"Severus has a particular sensitivity to magic, a very useful talent. And he's had much more experience than you in that sort of situation, Harry; you've nothing to be sorry for," Dumbledore said soothingly. "Now, how about going back to the Manor and fixing things up with the professor? I think he'd be especially happy about that."

"I'd best apologize, yeah," Harry sighed. "I really reacted like a spoilt brat; I don't know what came over me…but when do you think you'll hear from Tonks and Mad-Eye?" 

The Headmaster smiled. "I'll let you know if anything interesting comes of their investigation."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully. With a bit of luck, they'd actually pick up her trail, and Bellatrix would pay! "I'm going. I'll try to convince Severus to eat at the Manor this evening, if that's all right with you. I'd like to ask him some questions…in private."

"Whatever seems best to you, my boy," Dumbledore said good-naturedly. "And take good care of our Potions master."

The boy nodded and, with a smile, left the same way he'd come.

The laboratory, quite obviously, was deserted, but Harry didn't delay. Taking his cat from, he headed up to the next storey, ready to run for the office, but was stopped by a vague premonition as he passed the door to the professor's room. Snape was there, he was sure of it. Jumping up nimbly to maneuver the doorknob, he silently made his way into the darkened room.

True to character, Severus was stretched out on his bed, wand in hand, two empty phials lying on the bedside table. Mildly worried, the cat jumped on the bed, then tapped the pale face with his paw. He didn't like this…not at all. Snape seemed so old, his color so waxen. And what if he'd made a mistake with his potions? What if for once, the infallible Potions master had made a dosage error? Increasingly worried, the cat continued to knead the wizard's chest and face with his paws, earnestly trying to rouse him. Meowing quietly, he was ready to bite his hand when Snape struggled to open his eyes. His glassy stare did nothing to reassure the cat.

"Shadow…stupid cat…leave me alone…need to sleep."

The animal let out a piecing meow, making the Potions master startle.

"I'm here…sleep…an hour…please."

Sufficiently reassured, Shadow settled on the professor's chest and curled into a ball, letting himself be rocked by the man's breathing. If only he could've transferred his powers to Snape. Slowly, the rhythm got the better of his worry, and he fell drifted off too, falling into a chaotic slumber.

_It was dark…the shadows danced and everything around him was hazy, except for the figures encircling him. And yet it seemed that he knew this vaguely familiar place. He shuddered as he realized where he was: the cemetery at Godric's Hollow! It was nighttime again, and the Death Eaters surrounded him on all sides. Strangely, he could see their faces through their white masks, and he recognized Malfoy stepping toward him triumphantly, a dagger in his hand._

_"You cannot escape us. Never."_

_A hysterical laugh answered him, and Bellatrix's twisted face appeared over his shoulder._

_"Little Potter, lost without his collar! Where were you thinking of going?"_

_There was a flash of sliver, and the knife came close to his face without him being able to defend himself. Severus, where was Severus? A sharp burning on his face, then another at his throat. He tried to cry out, but no sound came from his mouth…maybe because he was a cat?_

_Severus!_

_Was that him coming now, leaving the circle? But no. He knew that figure, that walk…_

_"Just what he deserves," Uncle Vernon spat scornfully. "Let him rot in the back of a cupboard. In the back of a cupboard, I tell you! But not mine! Never again set foot in my house, you dirty little good-for-nothing! Freak that you are, you've no business with normal people! You should've died along with your parents! Stay away from my house!"_

_"And away from my family!" the small, bitter, unpleasant voice of Petunia added. "Don't ever come back again, never! And go bleed somewhere else besides on my rug!"_

_Harry looked down, and realized he was now standing in the middle of the sitting room at number four, Privet Drive, his blood slowly dripping onto her precious carpet._

_"Clean it up now!" Petunia shrieked._

_"No, I want him to leave!" Vernon roared. "He no longer has a right to be here! I've forbidden him! He's infected Dudley!"_

_"My poor Dudley," Petunia added furiously, "locked up in the attic because of you! You ruin everything you touch! Why didn't they come to take you earlier?"_

_But it appeared it wasn't too late, because once again they were there, Lucius with a knife in his hand, and Bellatrix with a mocking smile on her face._

_Before they could get to him, though, a green bubble surrounded him, preventing anyone from getting near him. Or just about, for the tall threatening figure of the Potions master stood in front of him now, wand in his hand, seeming furious and determined._

_"You will not touch my cat!"_

_The first curse that sprang from his wand literally sliced through Bellatrix, who collapsed with a scream, while Lucius suffered the same fate, his refined face disfigured by the cuts which seemed to have been made with a razor. Then, seething with rage, Severus turned to the Dursleys, and again the green light streaked out, but different this time. Vernon and Petunia fell without a sound, and even though Harry hadn't heard the incantation, he knew that Snape had just used an Unforgivable._

_Unable to get up, Bellatrix and Lucius writhed in agony on the floor, and the only thing Harry could manage to think was that the rug was well and truly ruined for good. Severus turned to him, his black eyes filled with worry, and Harry tried to smile._

_He'd come. He'd saved him. But he still hurt so badly, so badly…and it was cold, so cold._

"Harry. Harry!"

Shadow tried to open his eyes. Why was that so difficult? A nightmare, it was just a nightmare.

"Harry!"

The cat opened his eyes. Snape. Snape's room. His bed. Severus had awakened and seemed worried…but why did Shadow himself feel so weak?

"Harry, are you all right?" Snape asked. The question seemed sincere, and Harry saw no other way to answer than to change forms. Gathering all of his courage, he focused, before letting out a cry of pain.

"Merlin!"

This time Snape was clearly panicked, Harry realized. He didn't know just why, but he had an idea that it must have something to do with the lacerating pain in his face and his back…his entire body, in fact. He would've liked to reassure Severus, but an inarticulate gurgling was all he managed before collapsing on the bed, incapable of lifting his head.

"Don't move! Don't try to speak," Snape ordered as he cast several spells, before lifting him carefully in his arms. In a stride that was both fluid and quick, he took the stairs down to the laboratory, holding Harry as tightly against himself as he could. Before he reached the door, though, the boy had lost consciousness, his head resting limply on his chest.

Frantic, Severus placed the body that was much too light on a bed that he'd quickly transfigured. He had to stabilize the boy immediately before calling Poppy; he was losing too much blood, his wounds were too deep. Merlin, how could they have reopened?

Oh, he recognized each and every one of them, and the horror of the situation made him go cold, almost as cold as Harry was. The hideous cut on his cheek, the one foaming at his neck, and all the other ones the Death Eaters had inflicted on him one by one… Not counting the lacerations inflicted by that imbecilic Muggle's belt, ones he'd already healed twice.

Snape considered himself an expert in dark magic, but for all the potions in the world, he was unable to say what curse could've produced such an effect. And who could've cast it? Not Bellatrix, he was sure of that. Certainly not himself either, bloody hell, so who, then? Harry himself? That certainly wasn't impossible; the boy didn't have enough control over his powers yet, and strong emotion tended to overwhelm him.

Swearing, he did his best to heal the boy before throwing a handful of Floo powder into the grate.

"Hogwarts infirmary!"

As he'd expected, Madam Pomfrey was at her usual post, taking care of a teary-eyed Hufflepuff.

"Severus Snape, now's not the time, could you have the decency to—"

"No now!" the professor cut her off. "I need you immediately!"

"Well, well, so much for manners," Poppy Pomfrey said, crossing her arms on her ample chest. "And of course I'm supposed to leave my patients straight away and run to the Slytherin dungeons to—"

"Enough!" Snape roared. "Potter is wounded, he's at the Manor. Hurry or I'll drag you here by force!"

Her indignant expression quickly giving way to one of outright concern, the witch was quick to obey, leaving the wide-eyed Hufflepuff behind.

It took her but a second to spot the boy stretched out on the bed, the blood of his wounds slowly congealing. "Merlin! What happened to him? If this was another of you ideas to thwart You Know Who…" she began threateningly.

"Not at all," Snape retorted. "He was fine when I went to sleep. I was well aware he'd jumped onto my bed in his Animagus form, but he was still perfectly fine then. It was only when he started to have a nightmare that I realized something was wrong, but I don't see how a dream could have this effect. And this isn't the first time…back at the very beginning, when he first transformed, a similar phenomena occurred."

Perplexed, he shook his head. "I stopped the bleeding, and administered a regenerative potion, but I don't know how to treat these sorts of wounds."

"I hardly know any better," the mediwitch murmured. "As long as we don't know what caused the wounds to reopen, it will be difficult to diagnose. But I've got this feeling of déjà vu… Didn't Mister Potter have these very same wounds last month when you arrived?" she asked suspiciously.

"Stop looking at me like that, you old biddy," Severus said curtly. "Whatever you might think, I had nothing to do with them. But I still can't understand how…and why? Set him to rights, Poppy, it's urgent."

"Urgent, urgent," Madam Pomfrey muttered as she continued her treatment. "If it's a miraculous healing you're after, you're sorely mistaken. This boy needs rest, regenerative potions, and constant care until the cause of the problem is found. Harry, my boy, can you hear me?" she asked in a gentler voice.

Harry's eyelids fluttered, but he didn't answer. Without a word, Snape crept closer and placed a hand on the boy's forehead…much too cold, he noted.

"Harry, wake up," he said calmly.

"Uhhh…" the boy let out as he slightly moved his head.

"Everything's fine, you're home. Don't make any sudden movements, just open your eyes if you can."

With a groan, Harry obeyed, blinking several times. "Where…"

"You're at the Manor. Madam Pomfrey's with me," Snape replied. "You were injured, but we don't know how. How do you feel?"

"Uh…I've been better," Harry croaked out.

"Drink this," Poppy ordered as she handed him a potion. "Severus, hold him up in a sitting position. Perfect. Mister Potter, do you remember what happened to you?"

The boy squinted, trying to gather his thoughts. What had happened to him? He really would've liked to know. There'd been the cemetery, Bellatrix, then that argument with Snape…

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I shouldn't have said that earlier…"

Taken by surprise, it took a moment for the professor to answer. "That's not the issue, Harry. Do you have any idea of how you could've sustained these wounds?"

Harry lifted a hand to his face, trying to feel for the damage. He grimaced when he felt the blood with his fingers, before Severus gently pushed his hand away.

"I vaguely remember how I got them…the first time," he murmured. "Did I do something stupid? Did I go looking for Bellatrix? I don't remember."

Snape let out a sigh of frustration. 'No, nothing of the sort. I would've known." He looked questioningly at Poppy, whose spells were continuing to flow.

"Traces of magic, including some dark magic, but that doesn't tell us anything," she said with a shrug. "I can't find anything that could've caused this. It wasn't a curse. Perhaps something hidden that doesn't show in my diagnostics…there's nothing more I can tell you, Severus. I'd prefer to focus on treatment. A healer from St. Mungo's could perhaps tell you more."

"That's true. Is there something I can do?" Snape asked, his hand still resting on the boy's forehead.

"Keep holdng him up like that. Mister Potter, the next spell will pinch a bit. There, it's done. Nothing remarkable for someone who visits the infirmary so regularly. There won't be any scars if you apply this salve…but if these wounds persist in reopening, I can't make any guarantees," the mediwitch said soberly. "Are you sure no one could've entered your home in your absence, Severus? Left traps specifically for Mister Potter?"

"Completely impossible," the Potions master replied. "No one can harm Harry inside these walls. The answer lies elsewhere, but where?"

"I…" Harry began, but then stopped.

"Yes?" Severus encouraged him.

"No, nothing. Nothing to do with that, I mean. I'd just like…" He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Could we go back to the Dursleys'? Today?"

"Mister Potter, you need rest," Poppy said sternly.

"What do you want to do there?" Snape asked without paying her any mind.

"I don't know. Just an idea. But it seems really important to me…"

"Harry, you're in shock and that's understandable. Best that you sleep for now; we'll see to that tomorrow," Severus said.

"No, really, I'm not pulling this out of thin air. It's the dream, well, the nightmare…I think it was more than that. It was just so real."

Snape frowned as he studied him for a moment.

"And you were there," Harry went on. 'You came to Privet Drive, inside the house; the Dursleys and Lucius and Bellatrix were there…and you…" he stopped, ill at ease.

"And I swiftly slaughtered the entire charming group of them," Severus murmured.

Harry jerked up his head to try and see the wizard holding him, and as he did so, the wound in his throat reopened.

"Mister Potter, please stay still!" Poppy Pomfrey shrieked.

"Sorry," he quickly offered. "You had the same dream? You really were there?" he went on, turning toward Snape.

"It would seem so," the professor grimaced. "Very well. I'd like you to rest for a few hours, enough time for the potions to work and your wounds to close correctly. After which, we'll go back. I'll alert Albus."

Harry nodded, before leaning back against the man in relief.

"I thought you more rational, Severus," Madam Pomfrey said curtly. "Mister Potter is in no shape to travel at this time."

"He will be," Snape said confidently. "We must quickly find out what could've caused these wounds, and this lead seems as good as any other. You're in agreement with me that we must at all costs stop this sort of episode from occurring again."

"Tomorrow," the mediwitch tried, "tomorrow will be soon enough, after a good night's sleep."

"And it would appear that sleeping is _precisely_ the problem, the reason why I wish to resolve this matter as quickly as possible," Snape retorted.

"You're completely unreasonable," Madam Pomfrey grumbled as she leant towards Harry. "Alert me if you need help. In the meantime: rest, potions and wound-healing salve. I believe you know the dosages?"

Severus nodded, opening a jar of salve and beginning to apply it to the boy's cheeks.

"In that case, I'm going back to Hogwarts and will alert Professor Dumbledore of the events. He'll probably want to speak to you," she said.

"Probably. Tell him to come here; I don't want to take Harry outside these walls for now."

"Do you think he's still in danger?" Madam Pomfrey asked suspiciously.

"Just alert Albus," Snape said shortly.

"Do your duty, and this is the thanks you get," the witch muttered as she headed for the Floo. "I'll stop by again in the evening to see my patient. And get a move on refurbishing my potions stock. Between your little protégé and recent Quidditch practices, my cupboards are dangerously empty. As for you, Mister Potter, I trust you not to let the King of Slytherin manipulate you. Let's be clear that your health is the most important thing."

And with one last threatening look, she disappeared.

"I thought she was only like that with students," Harry murmured.

"I've already seen her treat Minerva in this manner, and that's something even Albus wouldn't permit himself to do," Snape replied. "Very well, the salve. Lie on your stomach and don't move."

As carefully as he could, he stood and turned to lay the boy down onto the bed again.

"Ummmf," Harry said, still noticeably sleepy. "Don't I have my shirt on anymore?"

"You were bleeding," Severus simply said. "Stay still for now. Close your eyes and try to remember what could've caused this."

"The Dursleys," the boy grumbled.

"Despite the antipathy those degenerates inspire in me, I doubt they can be accused of this misdeed. For one thing, they're lying in the cemetery, may the devil take their souls, and also because they never possessed the slightest bit of magic."

"Doesn't matter," Harry muttered, "I know it was them. Privet Drive. Something."

"Hmm," Snape said thoughtfully as he continued to apply salve to the wounds, the simple sight of which was enough to rekindle his anger. He'd not punished Vernon Dursley enough. Death itself hadn't been enough of a punishment. "We'll go back tonight. Whatever happened there was perhaps not as ordinary as I'd thought after all. These bad memories, these flashbacks… Harry, did you expect them?"

"I suppose so. But it seemed really…real. The bedroom…it was like before."

"I'll inspect it again. Perhaps I missed something," Severus suggested.

"Without me," Harry murmured. "Don't ask me to set foot in there again; I've seen enough of it. There's something else in the house I want to see…the attic. I've never gone up there. It's weird, isn't it? I mean, they made me clean and polish that bloody house from top to bottom, but I was never allowed up there. Dudley neither. Still, I know it was there…I want to see it."

"Rest for now," Snape said, setting the jar of salve aside. "But if you can manage it, don't fall asleep. Would you like a book or a magazine?"

"I don't know," Harry yawned. "If you're reading too, I'd really like if you'd read out loud."

"With pleasure. Would a treatise on the history of potions in New South Wales suit you?"

"Um…why not?" the boy said agreeably. Severus laughed softly.

"But since we're trying to keep you awake, and not put you to sleep, I suppose I should ask the Headmaster for the latest issue of a Quidditch magazine. Give me a few minutes, and be good."

Throwing a handful of Floo powder, he dove through the flames, leaving Harry smiling stupidly on his bed.

"You know what?" he said a moment later when the professor had returned. "If someone had told me a few months ago that I'd find myself in a bed…in the middle of your laboratory in your house…and that you were about to read me Quidditch articles, all of it without a death threat? I think I would've asked Madam Pomfrey if I had a case of acute mental illness."

"Oh, personally, I doubt I would waste the time," Snape replied. "The guilty party would found themselves at the bottom of a Hogwarts oubliette before they'd had time to finish that sentence."

The notion made Harry laugh in spite of himself, and then he grimaced. No, his cheeks were in no shape for laughing…and his throat neither.

"Speaking of oubliettes…what's happened with Malfoy? Draco, I mean?"

"According to the Headmaster, it seems he's not very happy with his new accommodations. By the way, it didn't take Lucius long to hear the news; he's already filed a complaint…but that doesn't concern us right now," Snape said.

"No? Why not?" the boy asked.

"More serious news, in fact," Severus began. "It would appear the Chudley Canons have lost both their last match—which in itself is hardly surprising—but also their trousers. In mid flight, I might add. An inquiry is underway to find who's at the bottom of this sabotage, but heavy suspicion lies on the Holyhead Harpies. A romantic breakup between the Canons' captain and the Harpies' Keeper. News of highest importance, it seems."

"Oh Merlin," Harry said, unable to hold back a new round of laughter, "I'm sorry!"

"Sorry? For the Harpies' Keeper or for the Canons' trousers?" Snape asked with humor.

"Actually, for you," Harry replied. "That's not exactly the sort of news that'll improve your day."

"Your vocabulary, on the other hand, seems to have improved considerably since you met me," Snape pointed out. "I suppose that's well worth a few instructive readings about my future son's preferred sport."

"Oh. That's not a stretch…about the vocabulary, I mean. And, um, you don't have to, you know, the Quidditch. I know it's not your cup of tea."

"I don't have to," Severus agreed gently. "But certain topics that are radically removed from my interests have recently found their way onto my shelves, and I must say I'm not entirely unhappy with that. For example, did you know that a cat's skeleton is made up of two hundred and fifty bones, and its jaw contains thirty teeth? Just two less than an adult human. And four more than needed for a growth potion."

"Promise not to count them on me," Harry said, "or try to brush my teeth."

"Hmmm, that makes me think of…"

"No, not flea repellent, not again!"

"That remains to be seen. So, concerning the Canons…" Snape began again.

"Really, Professor, you don't have to; it's not that important," Harry laughed.

"Ah, but that's not Mister Weasley's opinion," Severus retorted. "It would seem that this news is of paramount importance, since he insisted that his own copy of the magazine be provided to you as quickly as possible."

"Ron? This is his magazine?" Harry asked, all of a sudden wide awake.

"Annotated, nothing less."

"Did you see him? They're all right? Ron and Hermione, I mean, and all the others?" 

"Everyone is fine, Harry," Snape said soothingly. "I didn't meet up with them, but he left this magazine for you. A very…personalized gift. I only hope he never gets the idea to communicate with you this way, using your class books."

"While we're on this," the boy said cautiously, "promise you'll never inspect my class books too, all right? Especially Potions. I'm not sure you'd still want to adopt me if you did."

It was Severus' turn to laugh, that almost silent laugh that was so familiar to Harry. It was incredible, he realized, how the man could be so different in private than in public.

"Nothing to fear on that account, stupid child," he replied. "I can completely imagine what that book looks like, or rather what's left of it. You wouldn't be the first…one day, perhaps." He shook his head.

"Still," Harry insisted, "I think we were pretty creative in certain parts…and it's not really about Potions notes. Say, would it bother you if I read this magazine? I mean, I love that you'd read to me, really, but with all of Ron's comments…"

"I think I'll survive this ultimate sacrifice," Snape said as he handed him the magazine. Then, after a moment's thought, he added, "Have you ever read _The Tales of Beedle the Bard?"_

"No," the boy answered, interested. "Wizarding tales?"

"Precisely. Ones that all children in our world hear when they're small. Remind me to find a copy when we have time."

"I'd really like that," Harry said gratefully. "Thanks, Professor."

"Professor?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Severus," the boy corrected himself. "Sorry. Old habit." Harry was suddenly aware that he'd blushed. He had to admit that hearing Mafoy call Severus by his first name had put his jaw out of joint a bit. Had the professor noticed it?

"My goodness, it seems you've been using my first name for quite a while now," Snape said casually. "Again, do as you like, Harry. You're certainly not obligated."

"No, I'd like to," the boy rushed to add. "It'd be a bit weird calling my father 'Professor.' Well, you know what I mean."

"I addressed my own father formally," Severus said neutrally, "and I must say the prospect of you doing so hardly pleases me."

"What did you call him?" Harry asked, almost instantly wishing he could take the question back.

"Father," Snape replied. "Although, honestly, I spent more time avoiding him than calling him anything."

"I don't remember my nickname…for James. I wonder if I had a name for him."

"You had one," Severus said gently. "You called him 'Dada." A shadow of regret in his eyes, he ran a hand through the boy's hair, his thumb brushing over the scar on his forehead.

"Thanks," Harry said. "I don't know if that's true or you're making that up just to please me, but thanks."

Snape smiled slightly. "A bit of Slytherin thinking."

"It's a family trait," Harry replied, returning the smile.

"Read your magazine, stupid child," Severus said, with what seemed like a hint of pride.

Feeling strangely happy and safe despite his wounds, the boy buried himself in his magazine, letting the comforting warmth of the laboratory wash over him. He didn't know what the adoption Snape was proposing might mean in real terms, but of one thing he was certain: this very moment was the closest he'd known what a family was like.

A few hours later, happy and relaxed, he threw the magazine to the table, at the same time glancing at Snape still immersed in his potions journal.

"So, anything new with the alchemists? Has someone lost their trousers?" he asked.

Severus raised an eyebrow without looking up. "No, but it appears there's new research in the field of anti-parasitic potions. Interested?"

"No way," Harry grimaced, the motion setting off a sharp pain in his cheek. The professor didn't miss the wince he made, and quickly got up to come to him.

"It's time to reapply the treatment," he said as he held out a potion to the boy. "Another application of salve, and I think your wounds will have healed enough…this time."

"You…promised we'd go back to the Dursleys' this evening," Harry reminded him, unsure of the tone to take. He wanted to go, yes, but didn't want to spoil this great afternoon.

But to his relief, Severus nodded. "Let's take care of this first, have a good supper, then we'll go back to Privet Drive. Dumbledore's been forewarned, and the Order is watching the street. Unwise not to be cautious, though. I'll stay with you the entire time; I hope that's understood?" he asked sternly.

Harry quickly agreed. "I'd like that as well, to be honest. That first experience was enough. Do you want me to make supper?" he asked when Snape was done applying the salve to his back.

"You rest; I'll take care of it," the professor replied. "Finish up with this blasted ointment, and meet me in the dining room. And no claiming a lack of appetite; you'll eat everything I put on your plate or you're not going out."

"Grounded?" Harry laughed. "As long as there's dessert…"

Smiling slightly, Severus headed for the staircase. "I don't know if curiosity will kill the cat, but a sweet tooth, _that_ has a chance of it."

Harry enthusiastically proved him right, devouring his plate of lasagna in less time than it would've taken Shadow to empty his bowl.

"No need to lick your plate," Snape said, watching him disapprovingly. "There's more in the casserole, and there actually is dessert."

"I wasn't planning on…oh, what sort of dessert?" the boy asked quickly.

"Rice pudding. Well, I see I was wrong to worry about your appetite. I'll leave you to finish your meal and do the clearing away. I'm going to alert Dumbledore that we're leaving. Meet me below when you're done. And for pity's sake, eat slower; you're going to make yourself sick! It's high time we address your table manners, young man."

"Hmm, I'm trying to get you an award, that's for sure," Harry said in between two mouthfuls.

"What award?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"Order of Merlin, of course."

"For what honor, if you please?" Severus asked as he folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm torn," Harry said with his mouth full. "For the best lasagna in England, for having saved a stray cat, or for reading the worst Quidditch article ever without laughing."

"Quite a liste," Snape murmured, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Straight off, a fleabag award."

"Oh, that's mine," the boy confirmed as he lifted his arm to expose the bracelet and medal attached to it. In the space of an instant, their eyes met, and Harry was once again surprised by the gentleness he could read in the professor's eyes, in just seconds. A certain astonishment, too, as if Severus himself were having trouble believing all of this was really happening to him.

A moment later, Snape was off to the laboratory again, leaving Harry contented and full.

It was with a measure of apprehension, though, that the boy joined him in the laboratory, his cloak over his shoulders and ready for another outing. His wounds were nothing more than a slight smarting sensation now, but not knowing where they'd come from was rather agonizing. Despite Severus' reservations, Harry was convinced the Dursleys had something to do with it, and it wasn't just the dull resentment in his heart that told him that.

"Everything's quiet at Privet Drive. I'm going to Apparate us directly into the sitting room," Snape announced.

"Apparate?" Harry asked with a twinge of guilt. "You…will that be all right?"

Severus shot him a cold look. "Definitely. Come here."

"I have to learn how," Harry murmured. "Are there classes for that?"

"Yes, and that certainly wouldn't be a bad idea. We'll practice at Hogwarts during your private sessions. But for now…"

The unpleasant sensation of Apparition settled in Harry's stomach again, and when he opened his eyes, the familiar décor of the Dursleys' sitting room appeared. He staggered a step backward, checked by Severus, before finally regaining his balance.

But it wasn't just the Apparition, he realized; there was actually something here that made him very uneasy and punched him in the gut. An unhealthy presence that seemed to emanate from the walls…

"Bellatrix is here!" he cried out.

"No," Snape answered calmly, "we're alone here, you've nothing to worry about. The house is well-guarded."

"There's something," Harry insisted. "Don't you sense it?"

"The house certainly doesn't exude happiness, but…"

"No, it's something else. There's something. I'll get to the bottom of it. I'm going up to the attic—are you coming with me?"

Severus nodded and fell into step behind him, wand in hand. His heart pounding, Harry climbed the stairs, expecting to see a familiar figure spring out at him at any moment. Dudley, maybe, or Uncle Vernon…or Voldemort. He stopped for a moment, paralyzed, in front of the door to his room. And if the man was really there, behind it? He'd only have to push open the door…

The hand on his shoulder made him jump, but Snape's calm black eyes instantly soothed him. "I don't think it would be a good idea to go in there just now," he said.

"No, me neither," the boy murmured. "The attic. The trapdoor is right up there, but we need something to open it, I don't know what…"

"_Alohomora,"_ Severus simply said. The trapdoor opened immediately, revealing a sliding ladder.

"Um, I really have to learn how to think like a wizard," Harry said, irritated. "_Accio_ ladder."

The ladder slid down, opening the way to them. Snape skeptically stroked his cheek with a finger. "Whatever's up there, I doubt it's a matter of well-hidden secrets. That was a bit too easy…but let me go first; I want to check that no traps have been set."

Harry nodded nervously. "I don't know why, but I feel more and more like I'm right. There's something…I can sense it."

Severus gave him a curious look before starting up the ladder, wand still out, and clearly ready for anything. In a few seconds, he was in the attic, out of Harry's sight.

"So?" Harry asked after a moment. "Anything?"

"Yes and no," the professor said. "No traps, you can come up."

The boy hurried to do so, more nervous with each rung of the ladder he climbed. Finally to the top, he quickly brushed off his knees, then stood to look around. The attic stretched the entire length of a storey, but didn't look anything like the rest of the house. The vast room was dusty, filled with boxes, old furniture, and sundry objects that seemed to have been placed haphazardly then forgotten. Weak light filtered in through small skylights made opaque by spiders webs, and Snape's _Lumos_ was just enough to illuminate the space.

"Wow," Harry said after a moment. "It's like…a very old house, don't you think? Not really what I expected."

"No hidden vampire, no," Snape replied. "And yet…"

"Do you sense something too?"

"Yes. You were right. It's weak, old, and very well-concealed…but it's here."

Severus jerked his chin toward a corner of the room. As one, the two wizards headed in that direction, on the lookout. The knot in Harry's stomach pulled a bit tighter as he noticed the dark mass that seemed to have been relegated to the farthest corner of the attic. Nothing moved; he couldn't hear a sound except for their footsteps, and yet, it seemed to the boy that something was there…a rug, two red eyes watching them in the dark. He shook his head. No, of course not. And the mass…was nothing but a rug, he noted, when they were close enough. A rug covering what looked like an old trunk.

With a murmured incantation, Snape made the old carpet slide away. Harry could sense that Snape was tense too, as he made the chest creak open obediently from a distance. The boy stiffened, convinced that something was going to happen this time: a howl or a beast from the shadows…but once again, nothing happened, and both of them moved forward to look curiously into the trunk.

Again, they were disappointed to find nothing out of the ordinary. Bunches of letters, yellowed photographs, a scarf, a box. Harry stopped, unable to look away. The box was pulsating. He could've sworn the thing was beating out a muffled rhythm, a dangerous one that resonated in Harry's chest. One glance at Severus told him he wasn't the only one who'd noticed the object.

"Step away," Snape murmured. Raising his wand, he cast _Wingardium Leviosa_ on the box, lifting it carefully from the chest, before lowering it to land with a dull thump on the dusty floor. The lid lifted up under the effect of the spell, and a yellowed letter could be seen next to a green velvet packet.

"That's it," Harry breathed out. "There…I don't know what it is, but that's it."

"Stay put, don't go any closer," Severus said. "It's oozing magic. _Accio_ letter."

The parchment flew delicately into the professor's hand; he opened it, revealing a fine and eccentric handwriting. All of a sudden, it seemed as if his heart skipped a beat. This writing, he knew it well, oh so well. His eyes darted quickly to the signature, confirming his suspicions. _Your Lily. _LilyOh Merlin…after all this time.

Taking a deep breath, he began to read from the beginning.

_Dear Petunia,_

_Today was a big day—I'm finally here at Hogwarts, and do you know what? Everything is even more magical than I imagined it would be! First we had to cross a lake by boat to get to the castle. Sev was with me and even though he's more used to magic than I am, I still think he was impressed!_

_Everything didn't go nearly as well when we arrived in the huge room that serves as the student dining room. We were separated into our houses, like all the new students. Sev went to Slytherin, and me to Gryffindor. I was so much hoping to be with him. But he told me that wouldn't keep us from still seeing each other often, and we're going to have many classes together._

_Oh, Tuney, you should see how beautiful and huge it all is here. There are ghosts too, but they're not dangerous at all. Everything is still a bit strange, but I'm sure I'll settle in soon._

_I'm still finding it hard that I won't see you before Yule, Tuney. I'm really sad about that argument at the station—I'm really sorry. I would've so loved for you to be here at Hogwarts too. I know it's not possible just now, but don't lose hope. I asked Sev if it were possible that your powers might show up later than mine. He didn't seem to think so, but after all, it's magic, right?_

_So listen carefully, and keep this secret, please. Along with this letter, Red Wing is bringing you a packet. It contains a gem, in a pendant. Mum gave it to me, the day I came home after meeting Sev in the park—you remember? I told her everything that'd happened, and she went straight off to get this necklace from the back of her wardrobe. She explained that it was a very old jewel, something that'd been in her family for generations. But it's not an ordinary necklace, Tuney. You'll never believe me, but it was handed down by one of our ancestors, long, long ago, and this ancestor was…a wizard!_

_Mum explained that this man had wed a Muggle, a woman without magic, and that their children had all been born without powers, even their grandchildren. So he created this jewel that was to be handed down to future generations, so they'd be able to detect at birth if a newborn was magical or not._

_Over time, the tradition was lost, but the legend remained, and Mum remembered it when I told her my story. She put the necklace in my hands, and guess what happened? It started to glow! A very bright green light, and warm, and all of a sudden I felt incredibly happy and peaceful._

_Mum gave me the necklace and told me it belonged to me, but I don't really need it anymore, now that I know. So you keep it, and check from time to time to see if it's started to glow. If it does, then…you'll be seeing me soon!_

_Please write right away. You can give the letter to Red Wing, my owl; it knows where to find me. If you could give him something to eat for the trip, that'd really be great._

_See you soon!_

_Your sister who loves you,_

_Your Lily._

Severus felt his hands tremble as he lowered the letter. Lily…Merlin, it'd been so long. But an impatient voice was quick to pull him from his thoughts.

"So?"

Lifting his head, he met the boy's eyes, so like Lily's that it was almost shocking.

"A matter of a family jewel," he managed to say as presented the letter to him. "An object whose power was probably greatly underestimated down through the centuries."

He reached out to take hold of the little packet, tensing when he felt a streak of cold spread into his joints. Magic, yes, he could feel it…a very powerful magic, and very dark as well. So what had this so-called ancestor been thinking in creating such an artifact? The necklace slid into his hand with a tinkling of metal, and Severus felt time stop at the same time as his breathing.

The locket. The 'S' gracefully adorning the gold cover, the emeralds glittering dangerously in the light of their wands. He knew this design very well, having seen it in numerous texts on the history of magic, and had even dreamt of it when he'd been younger.

The lost locket of Slytherin…and to think that all this time, it'd been here in this trunk, in a Muggle house.

"Everything all right?" Harry asked worriedly at his side. "Do you feel that? That's him, right? He gives me goose bumps…."

_Not surprising, _Snape thought. Such a powerful and malevolent magic. But what was the jewel doing in Harry's family? Was it possible that…?

"Yes, I sense it," he said as neutrally as possible. "And I don't doubt that this…object has something to do with what happened to you this afternoon. It remains to be seen how, but I think we've done enough for our little visit."

"Wait," Harry protested, "there're a bunch of photos in the trunk, and if the letter's my mum's, maybe the rest of them are too."

"Probably," Snape admitted as he shrunk the trunk until it could be put into a pocket. "Take that with you; we'll look at it at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? Aren't we going back to the Manor?" 

"No. I must see Albus as soon as possible. This locket is…it's a very powerful gem, Harry. And a well-known relic as well. It's far from being a simple family jewel as your mother thought."

"And you think it could've given me all these wounds by itself?" Harry asked, intimidated.

"I think it could've manipulated your mind, provoked visions and Merlin knows what else. Let's go. No need to tempt fate by staying any longer."

Snape took a step toward Harry, who automatically pressed close against him, ready to face Apparating. To his great surprise, though, it was in Hogwarts' garden where he opened his eyes, clinging to Snape as if his life depended on it.

"Wouldn't it have been simpler to Apparate to the laboratory and pass through the Floo?" he asked when he was sure he wasn't about to vomit if he opened his mouth.

"I don't trust the Manor's protective wards when it comes to this," Severus explained. "This thing has most likely already attacked you. I don't know how the wards would react to it."

"Oh," Harry said, shaken. He'd not really thought of that. How was a necklace able to attack him that way? And his mother's necklace. "Best get up to the castle by foot, then," he said philosophically.

"That won't be necessary. We're near Hagrid's hut. We'll use his Floo."

"Hagrid…still no news, right? No, I suppose not. Do you think the door will be unlocked?"

"It always is," Severus replied. "There's always some sort of beast guarding the door, but that shouldn't pose a problem."

"I don't like going in, but I guess there's not much choice," Harry murmured as he spotted the hut. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Snape pushed him onward.

Nothing seemed to have changed in the little garden, and as Severus had predicted, the door opened without difficulty. What they saw on the inside, though, caught them totally off-guard, leaving them momentarily stunned speechless.

It took only a second, though, for Harry to regain his senses, and rush into the house with a cry. "Hagrid! You're back!"

The half-giant, clearly as stunned as his guests, seemed flabbergasted for a moment.

"Ah! It's you, Harry…Professor Snape…" he began as he ran a hand through his thick hair. "You, er…oh, Merlin."

Heaving out a huge sigh, he collapsed into a chair, under the professor's piecing eyes, and Harry's worried ones.

"Hagrid, are you all right? You managed to get away? Did they hurt you? Did you take any of them prisoner?" Harry asked, unable to believe his eyes.

"Er, yes…no. It's a long story, Harry. Why don't you sit down, um? And you too, Professor Snape. I don't know what Harry's done, but I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose, right?"

"I didn't do anything," the boy protested. "We just wanted to borrow your Floo to get back to the castle, but we thought…well, we didn't know you were here."

"Ah yes, Professor Snape Apparated you to his usual spot, then? That's good, that's good…" Hagrid said, patting his knees with his large hands. But his expression was so distant and anxious that Harry took a step backward, quickly joined by Severus.

"I regret having to bring this reunion to an end, but we must see the Headmaster at once," he said in a cold tone of voice that surprised Harry.

"The Headmaster?" Hagrid asked, all of a sudden agitated. "Ah. It's just that this isn't a good time. He's very busy…no, he isn't there. That's it—he's left. You can't see him right now, but if you wait a few minutes, I can make you a nice cuppa!"

"Thank you, but we're pressed for time," Snape said as he narrowed his eyes, a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"No, no, you don't understand," the half-giant said, moving to place his bulky frame in front of the Floo. "He needs a bit of time, just a bit of time!"

"He? Whom do you mean by 'he'? The Headmaster?" Harry asked, dumbfounded by his friend's behavior.

"No, Loki. I mean, my friend! I mean…oh, for Merlin's sake!"

"Loki?" Snape hissed, leaving his vantage point to jump toward the Floo. "Where is he?"

"It's not what you think, Professor!" Hagrid assured him with an apologetic gesture. "He just wants to rescue one of his friends who's locked up in an oubliette, a boy whose father wants to find him. He wouldn't hurt anyone, he promised me!"

"Move aside, you degenerate moron!" Snape exclaimed as he knocked Hagrid over with a rapid spell. "Harry, Shadow! Now!"

Still struggling with the shock of Hagrid's confession, the boy took a second to react. Then, shooting a betrayed look at Hogwarts' gamekeeper who hadn't made a move to defend himself, he transformed into the cat and leapt to Snape's shoulder.

"How did he get in?" Snape asked, wand pointed menacingly at Hagrid's throat.

"The underground passage," Hagrid stammered out, his head in his hands, "the one that goes from my hut to Hogwarts. Don't hurt him, he's a good boy, he just needs a bit of help…" With the nudge of his foot, he pushed back the edge of the rug, revealing a wooden trapdoor.

Swearing under his breath, Severus took aim as if it were a target and let loose a string of spells that Harry'd never heard before.

Satisfied, Snape turned and threw a handful of powder into the grate. "Dumbledore's office!" he shouted. "And you, you're coming with us," he ground out at Hagrid.

Without being told twice, the man clumsily stood up and resignedly plunged into the flames. Severus didn't waste an instant to follow, Shadow still on his shoulder.

The scene in the Headmaster's office gave Snape a sense of déjà vu.

"Hagrid? But how…" Dumbledore began, before noticing Snape. "Severus? How did you do this?"

"I did nothing at all," Snape lashed out. "Your gamekeeper was peacefully waiting in his hut. But for now, that's the least of our worries. Loki is in the castle, and he's come for Draco Malofy. Where does the underground passage from Hagrid's hut come out?"

For a second, the Headmaster stood staring at the big man, a rare look of astonishment painted on his face. He came back to himself quickly, though, turning to focus his eyes on the Potions master. "In the kitchens, the corridor door leading to the Hufflepuff common room. He mustn't have arrived yet; I find it hard to believe he could've come through unnoticed."

But he was interrupted by a faint 'pop' signifying the arrival of a house-elf, supplying them with the answer. "Professor Dumbledore, sir!" the elf squeaked. "A wolf just came into the kitchens! He went out through the corridor, sir! He was a wizard, so the elves didn't want to stop him, but Binji thought it best to warn you, Professor Dumbledore!"

"You've done perfectly right, Binji," the Headmaster reassured him. "Hagrid, do not leave this office for any reason. Severus, I'm going to need you…perhaps it'd be best for Harry to go back to the Manor."

"No," Snape quickly replied. "He's staying with me. And out of the question for you to transform, Potter!"

The cat dug its claws into the professor's robe, scratching his shoulder in the process. Was his answer clear enough? It must've been, for the two wizards raced for the staircases, their wands in their fists.

'_Expecto Patronum!"_ Dumbledore was the first to cry out, before giving his message to the silver phoenix soaring around him, instructing it to deliver it to Minerva McGonagall and all the prefects and professors he'd encounter along the way. "Severus, could you notify Professor Flitwick?"

"_Expecto Patronum!"_ Snape took his turn to shout out. The silver wisp escaped from his wand and…the two wizards stopped in their tracks, unable to look away from the form that'd just materialized in front of them.

Shadow, in particular, stared wide-eyed at the Patronus.

A cat. Snape's Patronus had become a cat…and a cat that looked astonishingly like him!

Severus' groan pulled Shadow from his trance.

"All right. All right…a message for Flitwick. Loki is heading for the oubliettes," he hissed in the direction of the Patronus, which quickly sped away for the Ravenclaw rooms.

"It would definitely appear this is a day of surprises," Dumbledore said mischievously in spite of the gravity of the situation.

"No comments, old man," Snape retorted. The two wizards took off again at a pace that surprised Harry. Honestly, the Headmaster might be old, but it certainly wasn't wise to underestimate him.

The phoenix must've quickly found its destinations, because the panic-stricken prefects didn't fail to appear, chasing after the students of their houses.

"In the Great Hall. Everyone in the Great Hall straight away! Sanders, ask your questions later. Dickinson, your makeup can wait, in the Great Hall, move faster!"

"Borkof, leave that bag where it is, head for the Great Hall, quick but orderly! It doesn't help to shove people, Miss June! I want to see everyone with wands in hand, and no stupid nonsense! Mister Carter, a bit of dignity, stop screaming, that's completely unnecessary!"

Shadow couldn't help but smile as he recognized Hermione's voice. If anyone was useful in this sort of situation, it was the girl and her steady self-control.

The news must've spread fast, because very quickly, there was no one in the corridors but a few frightened students and overexcited house-elves.

"This way! This way, Professors Dumbledore and Snape. The wolf went this way!"

His heart pounding, Shadow followed the path of the two wizards, holding on as hard as he could to Severus' shoulder. He admired how impressive they were, neither of them out of breath in spite of the long trek, and both of them perfectly calm, all their senses on alert, each movement calculated. He could sense Snape's magic swirling around them, searching for traces of Loki, protecting the cat on his shoulder.

"He's going to reach the oubliettes," Severus huffed out without slowing down, as they reached another corridor.

"Probably," Dumbledore confirmed, "but he won't be able to get out of them, and I doubt he'll have time to reach young Malfoy."

The thought of this made them proceed even faster, as they went deeper and deeper into the bowels of Hogwarts. The dampness around them was palpable, the stones of the tunnel they were following covered with moss. Shadow shuddered as he thought of what was ahead of them; were they beneath the lake? Were the dungeons of the school all that terrible? And Draco was there…in the company of a wolf! Hagrid had said it'd come to find him, but was that the real reason?

The corridors had narrowed, and Harry sensed Snape becoming more and more tense as they neared their destination. All of a sudden, it seemed he saw movement in front of them, and the two wizards sped up even more, wands raised.

"The dungeons are just to the left," Dumbledore announced. "Harry…"

"He's in no danger as long as he's with me," Snape replied. Beside him, the Headmaster nodded, obviously convinced. Shadow crouched down on his perch, too focused to really be surprised. One last turn, one last door…

"Here! I'm here! Hurry!" a panicked voice cried in the distance. Draco, Harry realized…but what was he playing at?

In front of them, a young man with light-colored hair strode smoothly toward the dungeon, with a quick look over his shoulder. But it certainly wasn't the look of a cornered wolf, nor even a human caught in an awkward position. No, Loki seemed both determined and sure of himself, as he headed for the dungeon, wand raised.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ Snape shouted. But the man sidestepped it with a superhuman quickness, and the spell missed its target.

"_Exsomnus."_

The response was immediate. Before the spell could reach its target, a green shield formed around the cat, pushing back the assault. At the same instant, Dumbledore and Snape counterattacked, disarming and immobilizing the Animagus on the spot, before he even made a move to defend himself.

Loki tumbled to the ground, his eyes fixed, a slight smile on his face, his wand rolling at his feet.

"Oh, Merlin," a small voice said from the corner of a dungeon. "Is it over?"

"Yes, Mister Malfoy," Snape said tersely. "You may come out of your hiding place."

Cautiously, Draco came out from beneath the bed where he'd hidden. "Merlin, I really thought he was going to get me. Bloody hell, is this how you guarantee my safety?" he exclaimed, his voice trying to sound dignified, but shaking slightly.

"From what I was able to hear, even you yourself were rather glad to see Loki a few moments ago," Snape pointed out. Draco looked down, embarrassed, to Shadow's great satisfaction.

Behind them, the sound of footsteps could be heard, and two professors who were noticeably out of breath put in their appearance.

"Cor, you got him?" Flitwick asked, clearly shaken by the race. "Nice work, nice work."

"See for yourself," Dumbledore said as he moved to the side, all the while stroking his long beard thoughtfully.

As for the second professor, he was noticeably less demonstrative. His wand slightly shaking, he drew nearer to the unmoving body of the young wizard, unable to look away.

"Loki? Can you hear me?"

"He's unconscious, Remus. You'll have to wait until he's in a secure location to speak to him," the Headmaster said gently.

"Please don't call the Aurors," Lupin murmured, his eyes pleading.

"Ah well, that's all that we'd need!" Professor Flitwick said indignantly at his side, but Dumbledore ignored him.

"I've no intention of calling them, my boy," he said, wrenching a groan from Snape, a few steps away.

"If you intend on letting that animal free, don't presume upon me to stay here," the Potions master barked out, his hand on Shadow still perched on his shoulder.

"It's not a question of freedom, Severus, but I believe we'll have to talk about this. After all, we need someone to take over for you," Dumbledore said, giving him a meaningful look.

Snape couldn't help but grimace in anger and disgust, baring his teeth. "You're not still thinking of…"

"I think many things," the Headmaster said firmly, "but for now it seems the most crucial thing is to reassure our students…and gather all the professors. This day has been very eventful, to say the least."

The thought of the object he still possessed, stuck hastily in his pocket of his robes, was enough to quell Snape's anger. Yes, the day had been long and complicated…and Dumbledore didn't yet know the half of it.

Turning his head, his eyes met Shadow's.

Soon, he promised him in his thoughts, soon I'll take you on holiday, so you can rest far away from all this. But for now… "Be a good cat," he murmured into the animal's ear.

The cat blinked, and Snape closed his own eyes for a moment.

Tomorrow…tomorrow would be a new day.


	42. Chapter 42 Comings and Goings

**Chapter Forty-two: Comings and Goings**

The ascent to the inhabited parts of the castle was made in a heavy, almost hostile silence. Still perched on Snape's shoulder, Shadow could see the suspicious looks that Flitwick was constantly casting at Remus, whose pale, tense face remained fixed on Loki's floating body.

He could clearly sense that Snape was cross and irritated, but there was nothing surprising in that. This little scene certainly wasn't going to improve the man's relationship with Remus, Harry thought.

As for Dumbledore, he seemed impassive as he levitated the form of the unconscious man through the corridors, but Shadow noticed that the ever-present sparkle in the Headmaster's blue eyes was gone.

The hallways they navigated were fortunately empty, but it appeared the Headmaster was leading them through a maze of little-used corridors. When they at last reached the staircase to his office, Dumbledore turned solemnly to Professor Flitwick.

"Filius, I'd be grateful if you'd keep what you know to yourself until this is sorted out. The important thing now is to calm the students and secure the castle as quickly as possible."

Arms crossed, Snape looked skeptically at the Headmaster. Never had an arched eyebrow so well expressed an 'I told you so,' Harry thought.

"Several matters must be addressed first," Dumbledore continued, "but safety cannot be put off any longer. Alert the other professors that a watch schedule will be instituted at midnight, to check that no other breach still remains. Have the prefects stay awake to watch the dormitories, and the professors willing to stand watch meet in the Great Hall. As for the rest, not a word, understood?"

The little man nodded as he stroked his beard. Without a word, he left the group for the Great Hall, not without one last sharp look at Loki.

He'd barely disappeared around a corner of the corridor when Remus stepped toward his son, unable to restrain his worry any longer.

"He's all right, Remus," Dumbledore said gently.

"Alas," Snape couldn't help adding in a low voice. But not low enough, though, to escape the sharp hearing of the werewolf, who shot him a wounded look. To Shadow's surprise, Snape looked away.

The Headmaster ignored the exchange, and went on gravely, "I'm taking Loki up to my office, where we can talk. Remus, you should know, however, that Hagrid is already there, and that the situation will be complicated. According to the initial information we gathered, he let Loki into Hogwarts, thanks to the underground passage leading form his hut to the castle. I still don't know what could've persuaded him…"

"Loki or Hagrid?" Remus asked, flabbergasted. "I didn't know…I didn't know anything about this scheme, Albus, you must believe me!"

"I've no doubt, my boy. All I ask is that you stay calm when we go up, whatever happens. Severus, Harry, I won't delay you, though your presence would in no way be unwelcome. I assume you were trying to contact me when you met up with Hagrid?" the Headmaster asked.

"Indeed," Snape agreed. "A matter of most importance."

Much more important than Loki, Shadow translated for himself.

"I suppose it'd be best for you to be present in any case," Dumbledore sighed.

"I'm not sure…" Remus began. But the three sets of eyes on him dissuaded him from finishing. He contented himself with a nod, and followed the Headmaster onto the staircase, Loki still floating in front of them.

They'd just entered the office when a howl greeted them, along with a muffled sound. Shadow crouched down on the Potions master's shoulder, before realizing it was only Hagrid, who'd jumped to his feet when he saw Loki enter.

"Oi, Professor, yeh haven't hurt him, righ'?" the giant implored plaintively.

"No, Hagrid, Loki is merely asleep," Dumbledore replied.

Hagrid let out a loud sigh of relief as he ran a hand through his hair. "Shouldn't be cross with him, he's a good little guy. He only meant well. His enthusiasm jes' gets the best of him sometimes…" he said, by way of apology.

Severus rolled his eyes, but Harry saw Remus smile weakly.

"And you, Hagrid, you wouldn't have got carried away by your enthusiasm as well?" Dumbledore asked sternly, as he gently placed Loki's body on a sofa.

Hogwarts' gamekeeper lowered his head in shame. "I know, P'fessor, I know," he murmured. "I didn't have much choice at the start, but the boy…he didn't mean anything by it, yeh know. He just wants to do what's righ'."

"And if you'd told us this from the start?" Dumbledore suggested, gesturing for his professors to sit. "A sherbet lemon, perhaps?"

This time, Snape and Remus both let out the same exasperated groans, making Shadow smile. The two wizards might have something in common after all…

They all sat comfortably, Remus near Loki, the Headmaster in his armchair, Severus and Hagrid near the fireplace. The cat curled carefully around his carrier's neck, letting the fire warm his fur. If the situation hadn't been so tense, he would've nearly purred…

Hagrid was watching them, his mouth open, but he barely had time to speak, pulled from his trance by Dumbledore.

"Hagrid, what happened the night you were taken?" the Headmaster asked.

The half-giant looked at the floor as he scratched his head. "Uh, well, er, a centaur galloped up to tell me werewolves had Apparated jes' at the edge of the forest, and they'd been joined by several packs of wolves. But by the time he'd warned me, they'd already reached the back of my hut, and Fang tried to stop them."

Hagrid sniffed noisily, a large tear running down his cheek. "He was brave, but he wasn't big enough, eh? There were too many…too many. I tried to chase those vandals away, but they started to attack me, fools that they were! And that's when the lil' lad arrived," he said as he motioned toward Loki, his voice suddenly affectionate. "He Disapparated me, that's all! There were two of them, in fact, but it was Loki what told the others to let me be and got me out of there!" he said proudly.

"And where did he take you?" Dumbledore asked without batting an eyelid.

"Ah well, I don't righ'ly know…but it wasn't somewhere around here. Thick forest, worse than the Forbidden Forest, and wolves everywhere. Not easy to get along with, those fellows, but all the same they didn't hurt me and they put me in a warm place in a cave. And the boy even brought me my cloak and a blanket so I wouldna be cold," Hagrid said tenderly. "Really, P'fessor, I couldna say where I was. But the wolves didn't bother me none; the problem was the werewolves."

He shot Remus an apologetic glance. "Not like you, P'fessor, you take the Potion. These ones were bad. The sort that call old Tom, 'Master.'"

It was towards Snape that he looked disconsolately this time. "Not like you either, eh? These ones meant business. But I think you know ol' Greyback."

A low groan came from Snape's throat, and Shadow felt his hair stand up on end.

"Yeh, well," Hagrid went on, "there was a heap of coming and going. The wolves didna like the werewolves much, but the young fella was there to make sure everyone kept their distance," he said as he jerked his chin at Loki. "Yeh, tha' he knows how to do! Merlin himself couldna done any better, when it came to making those dogs obey. Didna matter what they were, wolves, dogs, werewolves…he led them all by the nose! Almost like they took him for a god. Worked every time, even with the new ones. Tha' boy there shows his face, and they're all on their knees, watching and waiting for him to tell them what to do. And as soon as he does, whether as a wolf or a wizard, poof! Off they go like they're after the Holy Grail! He's somebody, my Loki, he is!"

This last sentence managed to bring all the listeners into agreement once again. Shadow could sense the wave of disapproval and anger in varying degrees that emanated from the Headmaster and the professors.

"Perhaps it's time to awaken Loki?" Remus said coldly.

"Not at all," Dumbledore replied. "Hagrid, might I know exactly what you intended this evening by helping Loki to secretly get into the castle?"

The gamekeeper sighed, his head lowered. "I'm not proud of myself, not proud a'tall. I know I disappointed yeh, I know, and after all that yeh've done for me…" Big tears rolled down his cheeks. "But Loki, yeh know, it's a bit like…he needs someone to help him; he doesn't have any parents…"

Remus opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore stopped him again with a gesture.

"So when he asked for my help to learn some things, to understand all of that…what was I supposed to do? He's just a boy, P'fessor, and he's so lost. It's complicated for him, the wizarding world. He was raised by wolves, and he's really smart, if yeh only knew!"

"Yes, I'm beginning to have an idea," Dumbledore said dryly. "Go on."

"Well, the boy and I ended up by getting on all righ'. He's not like the others at all, yeh see. He has this side of him that's…well, a bit wild. A bit like me," the giant said timidly. "Oh, I know he know he takes advantage of me—he knows I can't say no to him. But what can yeh do…kids…well, when he told me there was this boy at Hogwarts tha' was locked up in the dungeons, and how his father wanted to rescue him before he could be sentenced… Er, P'fessor, I know yeh know better than me, when it comes to what must be done, and yeh really have reasons for that, and…I really feel like an idiot for doing this to yeh, yeh know. I shoulda talked to yeh about it…tried at least…but he made those eyes at me, yeh know, like a puppy dog? So, stupid me, I said all righ'. He promised he wouldna hurt anyone, for sure!"

"Wouldn't hurt anyone?" Snape barked. "He just tried to kill Harry!"

The blood seemed to drain from Hagrid's face at these words, and he turned a haggard look toward Shadow.

"It was an _Exsomnus_, Severus," Dumbledore said, attempting to calm him.

"Wonderful," Snape said sarcastically, "he just wanted to put him into an endless sleep! And that's not even taking into account the attack in Diagon Alley!"

"Tha' was very bad of him," Hagrid agreed tearfully, "and I told him so."

"He told him so," Severus repeated as he rolled his eyes. "So nothing for us to worry about; let the wolf go, alert Voldemort he'd better watch out, Loki is a turncoat."

"No, no, Loki has nothing to do with Tom," the giant protested. "He jes' keeps bad company."

"…bad company…" Snape choked out. "All right, that's enough," he said as he stood. "You're right, Albus, it's senseless for me to be a part of this. Alert me when this nonsense has been resolved."

"Sit down, Severus," the Headmaster directed with a soothing gesture. "I think it's time to awaken Loki and get his version, and I want to see how he'll behave in Harry's presence."

The Potions professor hesitated a moment before finally nodding, then taking his seat again.

It was Dumbledore's turn to get up and go to Loki, wand in hand. Remus stiffened immediately, and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. He didn't say a word, but his golden eyes spoke for him.

"_Finite Incantatem,"_ the Headmaster murmured. Abruptly, the lithe figure of the young man sat up, his eyes running quickly and calculatingly over the room.

"It's all right," Remus and Hagrid said at the same time.

Loki pulled himself back into his corner of the settee, his eyes flicking from one to the other. His lips bared imperceptibly when he noticed Shadow, still perched on his master's shoulder.

"Don't touch the cat, Loki!" Hagrid growled from his chair, his eyes widening.

The young man looked at him, half-pitying, half-annoyed.

"Are you all right?" Remus finally asked.

The boy snorted scornfully.

"Very well, Mister…" Dumbledore began, but then stopped. "On that subject, might I know you surname?"

"It's Loki, that's all," the young man grumbled.

A heavy silence stretched out after this declaration.

"Lupin," Remus sighed out at last. "We've already talked about this, Loki."

Once again, Loki contented himself with snorting.

"Mister Lupin, then, might I know what you were coming to Hogwarts to do?" Dumbledore began again.

"One moment, wait one moment," Hagrid said agitatedly from the other side of the room, "what's going on here? What's P'fessor Lupin got to do with this, eh?"

Shadow could clearly sense Snape's amusement, sinking a bit more deeply in his armchair, as if to enjoy the show.

Loki took the initiative to respond. "I didn't say anything so you wouldn't see me differently, Rube. He's my sire."

Sire? Remus' wounded expression wrung Harry's heart. It was clear that the relationship between father and son hadn't advanced as far as the professor would've liked to have them believe. And Rube? So, why was Loki calling Hagrid that? Oh, his given name was Rubeus, after all. Was the Animagus that close to Hagrid? Harry himself only called him by his surname.

This time, it was a little twinge of jealously that twisted the cat's heart.

"Professor Lupin?" Hagrid stammered. "Your…father?" It took the giant a moment to recover from his surprise and fold his arms across his chest as he turned sullenly to Remus.

"So that's how yeh took care of the boy? Well, it's not very nice, no, not very nice!"

"You stay out of this," Remus hissed. "This is my son, as you've just pointed out, and your interference isn't welcome."

This was so much unlike the werewolf that Harry started. Snape seemed to be finding the situation more and more amusing, and barely managed to hide a slight smile.

"Leave him alone," Loki intervened, his voice thick with menace. Then, not paying any mind to Dumbledore and the wands trained on him, he got up to go to Hagrid.

"You've yet to answer my question," the Headmaster said dryly at last.

Loki gave him a small worrisome smile. "I came into your den to get Draco Malfoy and take him to his death."

At the name, Hagrid choked out a gasp of surprise, but kept himself from interrupting as the Headmaster went on with his questioning.

"Lucius asked you to do this?"

"Among others," the young man replied evasively.

"I'm afraid that answer isn't sufficient for me," Dumbledore insisted. "Did Voldemort send you here?"

"That's none of your affair," Loki said.

"I see," the Headmaster said. "Veritaserum, then."

"P'fessor, is that really necessary?" Hagrid stammered. "He jes' needs a bit of time to think abou' all of this."

"I very much doubt that," Dumbledore sighed. "Loki, the truth?"

Staring into the Headmaster's eyes, the young man only widened his smile so that his teeth were bared.

"Professor Snape," Albus went on, not losing his sereneness, "would you have a dose of Veritaserum available?"

But before Severus could respond, it was Remus who spoke calmly but firmly. "Out of the question," he said. "I'm sorry, Albus, but I won't allow it."

"Remus?" the Headmaster queried.

"The use of Veritaserum is regulated by the Ministry. As far as I know, no Auror has authorized its use on my son."

Eyes wide, Hagrid watched the exchange, paralyzed.

"Do you truly intend to engage in this sort of negotiation, Remus?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Crossing his arms, the professor suffered the icy blue eyes.

"Very well," the Headmaster finally sighed. "I'll grant you two days. Two days. After which I'll require answers…even though I think I already know them."

From where he sat beside Hagrid, Loki scrutinized his father. Something was going on here, Shadow thought, something he wasn't sure he understood.

"Hagrid, I'll let you go back to your hut, but I'd like to speak with you in a few hours," Dumbledore announced. "Do you think you'll be safe there?"

"Yeh, P'fessor," the giant answered, his head lowered. With a last look for Loki, and a grateful nod of his head for Remus, he threw a handful of Floo powder, and disappeared into the green flames.

"Professor Lupin," the Headmaster continued as he turned to the wizard, "if you'd escort Loki up to the top of the tower."

With a slight flick of his wand, Dumbledore caused a portrait to swivel, revealing a stone staircase leading upward.

"Best to make it clear, young man, that this room is protected from both outward attacks and escape attempts. So, no need to waste your time with those; it'd be better used to think about what you intend to do now."

It seemed to Shadow that Loki laughed softly, but before he could be certain, Remus pushed him in the direction of the staircase, wand in hand. The portrait closed behind them, and Dumbledore headed for his armchair, seeming worried.

"Beautiful performance, Albus," Snape pointed out offhandedly. "For an improvisation, that was brilliant."

"Certainly no more than yours, my boy. I've neither your talent nor your experience," the Headmaster replied, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "I just hope Loki was fooled more than you were."

"That animal doesn't work the same as we do, but your body language was as convincing as your words. Yes, I think he took the bait," Snape said, tapping his cheek with a finger.

Irritated, Shadow jumped to the floor before transforming.

"What improvisation? What bait? I didn't understand anything of what you did!" Harry whinged.

"Ah, because we acted with subtlety," Dumbledore said cheerfully. At that moment, the portrait opened again to admit Remus, his features drawn.

"That's it, he's locked in up there, he didn't make a fuss," he announced. "But nothing to get out of him just now. He's changed to the wolf and has curled up in a corner. I'll stop by and bring him something to eat later. Albus, thanks for playing along. I know it was pathetic, but unfortunately necessary. I wasn't expecting Hagrid to be part of the equation."

"I must say I wasn't either," the Headmaster murmured. "And it's a very unpleasant surprise."

"You're not going to sack Hagrid, are you?" Harry asked nervously. "What he did was incredibly stupid, but asking Hagrid to resist a huge, talking wolf? That'd be unnatural."

Dumbledore smiled widely, and Remus ran a hand across his face.

"No, Harry, of course not. He's just going to have to adjust to this development and I suppose a serious discussion is in order."

"Whatever you decide, I don't want him near Loki again," Remus growled. "All my efforts will be in vain if Hagrid continues to interfere this way."

"All of that will have to be carefully considered," Dumbledore agreed. "Do you think that for now you could join the students and professors in the Great Hall, and see that order's reestablished? I don't believe we'll get anything out of Loki just now, and he's out of danger, in any case."

"What should I tell the others?" Remus asked reluctantly.

"Oh, I assume Filius and Minerva will have already come up with a good story, but it would be correct to say that an intruder tried to enter Hogwarts, alone, and that he was captured. A young man thinking of playing a good prank, let's say."

"A prank? That really didn't seem much like a Weasley twins joke," Harry said.

"Oh, I seriously doubt that Loki's sense of humor is much like our own," Dumbledore agreed. "But that should be enough to ease minds for the moment, and give us a bit of time. Will that be agreeable to you, Professor Lupin?"

"It'll have to be," Remus sighed. "Merlin, I don't know what to think of this, but I'm glad you have this room available. Would it bother you if I come by again later this evening?"

"You know very well it wouldn't," Dumbledore comforted him. "But give me time to speak with Hagrid, and I think Severus and Harry would also like to talk with me."

"Of course," Remus said, looking at both the Potions master and the boy in turn. All of a sudden, he seemed even more tired, and the circles under his eyes made him appear much older than he had a few hours ago.

"Harry, are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, don't worry," the boy assured him with a smile. "Take a rest, you don't seem, uh, in very good shape."

"And I suppose that's another good euphemism," Remus said with a wan smile. "Thanks, Harry. I suspect all of this must be a bit bothersome for you, but I want you to know I'll always be here for you, all right?"

_Like you were just then?_ Harry thought. But this really wasn't the time.

"Sure," he answered, forcing himself to return the smile. Behind him, he sensed Snape's irritation and impatience, and prayed that Remus wouldn't linger much longer.

But the professor seemed to sense the tension in the office as well, and headed quickly for the door. "I'll see you later," he said to Dumbledore. With a last nod in Snape and Harry's direction, he left.

"So, on to the next problem, then," the Headmaster said cheerfully, pointing his guests who were standing to the armchairs again. "Is it just a feeling, or have the days been especially eventful recently?"

"If it's a feeling, it's a believable one," Harry said as he fell into one of the comfortable chairs opposite the desk. "But for a change, this has nothing to do with Loki."

"Well, I certainly won't complain about that," Dumbledore assured him. "I must say that young man's stirred up more commotion on his own than all the Weasley children combined, which is no small feat. But to answer the question you must have in mind, Harry, I'm afraid Moody and Miss Tonks weren't able to find Bellatrix. She'd gone before they arrived. On the other hand, they retrieved traces of her trap. It was very well-hidden. One had to be at its precise location to spot it. It's entirely unfortunate that we didn't pick up on it sooner, but I must say I was expecting Bellatrix everywhere except in that place. A Muggle cemetery—very unexpected on her part."

"And negligent on yours," lashed out Severus, who'd been quiet up until now.

"That as well, yes," Dumbledore admitted. "Did your return to the Dursleys' go well?"

"Nothing as spectacular as the first time," Snape replied, "but we found something that indicates Harry was right. There truly was something connected to his condition to be found in the house. An artifact that explains many things…"

A spark of interest kindled in the Headmaster's eyes. "Might I know what it was?" he asked calmly.

With the ghost of a smile, Severus got up and rummaged in his pocket for the necklace. Then, with a falsely casual gesture, he let it drop to the Headmaster's large wooden desk before retaking his seat, unable to look away from it where it lay.

He secretly rejoiced when he heard Dumbledore's sharp intake of breath at the shock. This time, he'd succeeding in impressing the Headmaster, and how could he've failed to be? Slytherin's locket, right here beneath his eyes, in this office.

It took Dumbledore a few seconds to get a hold of himself and reach out a slender hand toward the jewel. He took it almost hesitantly and lifted it up to his eyes.

"Severus," he breathed out, "do you realize…?"

"Oh, yes," the Potions master replied with satisfaction. "It literally oozes Dark magic. Its origin is absolutely undeniable…and its nature as well."

"It's obvious," the Headmaster murmured, "so obvious. His signature is there, and that power…" He shook his head as if coming out of a trance. "Merlin, Severus, how could we've missed this?"

"I don't know," Snape replied in a slightly begrudging tone. "How could this thing come to be there, to start with? That's what bothers me. The necklace was with a letter from Lily, sent to Petunia Dursley when Lily started at Hogwarts. From what she said, her mother had given her the necklace, telling her that family legend claimed the pendant had been made by a wizarding ancestor, a very long time ago. It would've been charmed to detect wizards among newborns. I don't know who this ancestor could've been, but I find it hard to imagine that Salazar Slytherin created this sort of artifact."

"Uh, wait a minute," Harry interrupted. "Slytherin? What do you mean?"

The Headmaster shot a questioning look at the professor, who replied with a quick incline of his head. "I didn't have a chance to explain…anything to him. I wanted to be certain. We came to find you right away, but Loki's break-in delayed things a bit," Snape said.

Dumbledore nodded, still clearly absorbed by his thoughts. "Where to begin?" he murmured.

"At the beginning," Snape cut him short. "Harry, this locket isn't just any family jewel. It's in fact a very well-known necklace, lost and sought after for ages. It belonged to Salazar Slytherin, one of Hogwarts' founders. You can see the 'S' formed by the stones. It's a design that's been reproduced many times through the centuries, and which you'll find in most history of magic books. Starting with Hogwarts' history."

"But…but…" Harry stammered, "would that mean…I mean, my mother's letter, she said it came from her mother, from her ancestors; does that mean I'm really of Slytherin heritage?"

The two professors exchanged a knowing look.

"That's difficult to say just now," Snape replied, "but I tend to think not."

"It's not impossible, but highly unlikely," Dumbledore agreed. "Severus, do you want me to go on?"

The Horcruxes, Severus thought. Well, if the choice were left to him, then to be honest, yes, he'd prefer leaving this part of it to someone else. And besides, the diversion was timely.

"Continue, Albus, I'll be back in a moment."

With a quick reassuring look for Harry, he headed for the Floo. "Snape Manor."

He disappeared in a whirl of green flames, then reappeared in the familiar surroundings of the laboratory. He took but a few seconds, just long enough for the flames to go out, before throwing another handful of Floo powder. "Hagrid's hut, Hogwarts!"

Without further ado, he rushed into the Floo, then sprang out into the middle of the huge hut. The half-giant was indeed there, busy putting the place in order, and hardly seemed surprised by the invasion.

"P'fessor Snape," he said with a nod.

"Do they know?" Snape asked without preamble. "The other passageway, did you tell them?"

"No, no, I didna say anything bout' that, only this one. No one knows, but I'm gonna have to tell now."

"Out of the question, you'll say nothing to Dumbledore. That passageway must remain secret for as long as possible," Severus retorted. "Not a word—do you understand?"

"I have to do it, P'fessor, the Headmaster's gonna ask me. I can't let him down again!" Hagrid said.

"Of course you can. He'll have it sealed up if he knows, and this passageway could save Harry's life one day. You did it for Loki, you can certainly do it for Potter, can't you?"

"P'fessor Snape, it's wrong," the giant moaned. "I'm Hogwarts' Keeper of the Keys, I can't do this…no, I can't."

"For Harry," Severus repeated, "do it for Harry. You're fond of him, aren't you? And you know he's in danger, even more so now that Loki's within the walls. He has to have an escape exit, one known only to him. Don't deprive him of this chance; this might be the only one that he'll have to get out, one day."

"I…I…all righ'," Hagrid conceded. "I won't say anything. But don't do anything stupid, P'fessor, don't do what I did. I know Harry's a good boy, and that yeh're doing your best, but everything's happening so fast…so fast."

"Must too fast, that's certain," Severus muttered. "I'm counting on you. I have to go back… Don't forget, not a word."

And throwing another fistful of Floo powder, he dove once more for the Manor.

Well, there was no more time to be lost. Grabbing the potions from the table, he drank two of them down, and let out a sigh of relief as he felt his strength revive. The odor of potions was strong and recognizable enough for Albus to quickly identify it. The alibi wasn't the best one, but he hardly had time to construct one better. Activating the Floo once more, he headed again for the Headmaster's office, where Harry was waiting for him, his face especially pale, his eyes wide, as if he'd just seen a ghost.

Which, quite nearly, must've been the case.

"You knew?" the boy asked blankly.

"Be more precise, Mister Potter," he replied. "To what exactly are you referring? The existence of the Horcruxes? Yes. The fact that Voldemort made use of them? That as well. As for knowing this necklace was one, I suspected it the instant I had it in my hand. That moment, however, was hardly the right one for explanations."

"But he…when did he do this? Did you know about it?"

"Well before you were born, probably after he left Hogwarts. And no, I didn't know about it. The spell permitting the creation of Horcruxes is more or less taboo; few know of its existence, even in places where Dark magic is common. Even today, few people know, including those in the Order. Take care, then, to be discreet," Snape explained.

"Merlin, but it's…how can he…and six Horcruxes? They _have_ to be destroyed!"

Severus saw a brief gleam of triumph flash in the Headmaster's eyes, and felt an indescribable rage well up within him. _Seven _Horcruxes, counting Harry! But Albus had obviously kept that to himself, and now, here he was, leaving the boy to wage war against the very spell that was a part of him. But what could Severus do about it?

Instinctively, he drew closer to Harry. No, not even his Protego could protect him from this…

Dumbledore must've sensed his professor's mood, for his shoulders slumped slightly as he answered, "Yes, Harry, they'll have to be neutralized before we'll be able to attack Voldemort, that's for certain. But knowing that one of them has been found is already a great step forward. As for how the locket came to be at your home, that, on the other hand, is an enigma."

"Oh," the boy said, realizing all of a sudden. "If my mother sent it to Aunt Petunia when she was at Hogwarts, then Voldemort couldn't have made it afterward…but before?"

"One thing is certain:Tom Riddle would've never left Slytherin's locket in a Muggle house," Severus said with certainty. "Someone probably took the necklace there later, although I don't know who or why. It really makes no sense."

"But you think I could be a descendant of Slytherin after all?" Harry insisted, clearly not thrilled with the idea.

"Harry, did the locket react in any way to your presence?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Not that I know of, no. Oh. You mean…no, it didn't glow, like my mother said in her letter. And yet, I have powers… It's not the same necklace, is it? Oh, Merlin, I'm relieved."

"I don't doubt it," Snape said sarcastically. "The gems, indeed, were most likely changed out. I find no trace of Lily, nor of the sort of magic necessary to detect powers in this locket. It's probable that the original was lost. That's unfortunate."

"Yeah," said Harry, who couldn't help but feel more relief than disappointment at the loss." "What're you going to do with it now? It has to be destroyed, doesn't it?"

"As soon as possible," Dumbledore agreed. "I hope you won't be cross with me, Harry, if I take care of it right now?"

"No, certainly not," the boy replied. "That thing is pretty dangerous. Is there a special incantation?"

"You must understand that Horcruxes are very powerful objects, and because of this, very difficult to destroy. Almost impossible, in fact. One of the rare effective weapons is in fact found in the venom of a basilisk, a very rare breed, as you know," the Headmaster explained.

Beside him, Snape was once again struck with a wave of hidden anger. Yes, Harry knew it only too well, the boy shuddering at the simple mention of it.

"It certainly didn't do Tom Riddle's diary much good, anyway," Harry murmured.

"And that's how you destroyed the first Horcrux," Dumbledore agreed.

Harry gaped at him for an instant, his eyes wide. "The…I did…the…but…"

"Tom Riddle's diary was a Horcrux, Harry," Severus calmly explained as he hid his exasperation. "Without knowing it, you used one of the only weapons able to destroy it against him."

"Me? Just like that? But I was twelve, it's not possible that—"

It was the wave of resentment he sensed coming from Snape that stopped Harry. Something was going on between Severus and the Headmaser that was making him uneasy.

"Ah well, after defeating Voldemort as a one-year-old, I suppose that shouldn't be surprising," Dumbledore said calmly.

"But then…how many are left?" Harry asked, still in shock.

"If my theory on splitting the soul in six parts is correct, there are then five Horcruxes remaining," the old wizard went on. "And there will be but four if you give me permission to take care of that one, Harry."

"For sure," the boy said, making a face of disgust at the object.

He couldn't help but experience a certain fascination, though, when Dumbledore produced the sword of Gryffindor, the same one with which he'd vanquished the basilisk.

The Headmaster didn't hesitate for a second to brandish the blade, his eyes glittering as he raised it above his head to strike the locket. Harry had a brief flash of realization of what Albus Dumbledore, vanquisher of Grindelwald, could be—one of the most powerful wizards of his generation.

The sword struck the gem with a _crack_, and a shower of green sparks momentarily blinded the onlookers. When they looked at the locket once again, though, it remained in its place, intact.

Dumbledore and Snape studied it wordlessly, the confusion clear on their faces.

"I don't understand," Snape began.

"I do," Harry interrupted. "I know what has to be done."

Sure of himself, he went to the desk and grabbed the object by the chain. Cold shivers ran along his spine. It _knew._ One way or another, the locket had guessed what he was about to do.

"Open," he murmured in Parseltongue.

The response was immediate. The jewel opened, releasing a torrent of malevolent energy that seemed to wrap around Harry's wrist. He threw it back to the desk again.

"Now!" he shouted at Dumbledore, whose eyes seemed, for the first time since Harry'd known him, completely empty.

All around them, the air seemed to thicken, and a figure appeared, pale and translucent, but totally real.

A sad-looking little girl with eyes full of reproach turned toward the Headmaster.

"Albus, you can't do this, you'd be killing someone again! You're already a murderer, and if you do it, I'll never forgive you! Never, do you hear me?"

"Ariana…" the old man murmured, appearing to have suddenly aged a hundred years.

"Albus, for heaven's sake, hurry up, it's only an illusion!" Severus roared.

"No, Al, you don't have the right to punish people anymore. You always make the wrong choices, you can't tell the good from the bad; put down the sword," the little girl went on, before being joined by a young man with blond hair, who seemed cunning and strong.

"Don't do it, Albus, out of love for me! It's a relic, a bit of soul, you've no right to destroy it; it could be used in other ways! Trust me, give me the sword! For the greater good, Al!"

It was Harry's turn to be petrified by the spectacle playing out before him. Who were this girl and young man, talking to Dumbledore this way? Illusions, Severus was surely right, but from what hell had they come out of?

A growl pulled Harry from his stupor. Realizing the Headmaster had lowered his guard, that his hands were shaking, his eyes fixed on the tormented shadows still speaking to him incessantly, Snape had jumped forward.

With a jerk, he pulled Gryffindor's sword from Dumbledore's hands and took his turn to brandish it above his head. He'd barely had the weapon his hand, though, when the figures melted and reconfigured with different features.

Harry shuddered, immediately recognizing Eileen Prince, her expression even crueler than in Snape's memories.

"Dirty little imposter, let go of that this instant," the woman hissed. "You've no right to touch these things, half-blood, shame of the family! Get out immediately or you'll regret your disobedience!"

"She's right," said a second woman's voice, her face making Harry's hair stand on end. Lily…his mother…but she'd never worn such a scornful expression, or at least he hoped she hadn't. "That's enough, Sev, you'll never be anything but a good-for-nothing. Go away and leave well enough alone! What're you playing at? You'll never be in the same league as James, no matter what you do; you're ridiculous! You don't deserve to look at my son, and even less to hold that sword. Get out before someone sees and realizes what a disgusting creature you are!"

But neither the misshapen shadow of Eileen, nor that of Lily had time to go any further. Without sparing them a glance, Snape pushed Dumbledore out of his path and took a half-step backward before bringing the sword down full-force onto the jewel.

Once again, green flames burst out, this time along with a drawn-out screaming. The illusions disappeared, giving way to two red eyes that left no doubt as to their identity.

"Traitor," Voldemort hissed, shooting a burning look at Snape.

An icy blast of wind swept through the room, and then calm fell over the Headmaster's office again. With a sigh of relief, Severus lowered the sword, leaning on it as he swayed slightly on his feet. At his side, it was Dumbledore who gripped his arm to steady him.

His eyes still a bit vacant, the old wizard seemed to have trouble overcoming the shock himself.

"Merlin, Severus, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he murmured blankly.

"Sit down," Snape said wearily. "Harry?"

The boy nodded, his turn now to come to the professor. "I'm all right. What exactly was that? I knew I had to open it, but I didn't know it'd do such a thing, I'm sorry," he explained.

"You've no need to be. It's clear the Horcrux was protected. Although, honestly, I would've gladly taken a pass on that farce," Snape groaned as he took his chair again. "Albus, do you need a potion?"

"No, no, thank you, my boy," Dumbledore said as he shook his head. "Harry, Severus, might I ask you both to keep what you've witnessed strictly confidential?"

"Definitely," Harry was quick to reply, bothered as he remembered the scene he'd just taken part in. As for Snape, he rolled his eyes.

"No, Albus, I'm going straightway to send an owl to the _Prophet, _so you'll have the pleasure of paying me back me in the next edition. Don't be stupid."

"That's very Slytherin of you, my boy, but have no fears on that account," Dumbledore said as he closed his eyes. "It'd be sorry vengeance on my part, to tell how you were obliged to do the work in my place. I'm truly more than mortified by all of this. I've never claimed to be invincible, but I wasn't aware of this weakness, although I feared it. You're a strong man, Severus, very strong."

"Don't be ridiculous," Snape snorted scornfully. "I simply don't have the soul of a Gryffindor, and very little time to waste with this sort of act."

"Oh, really?" Dumbledore said, a mischievous smile suddenly brightening his face. "And yet you were able to use the sword, something only a true Gryffindor could do."

At these words, Harry saw the head of Slytherin go deathly pale. "Merlin," he breathed out, "never…swear that'll never go beyond this office. Harry, I want your word as well."

Severus seemed so horrified that the boy couldn't help but guffaw despite the gravity of the situation. "I don't know; in fact, this could be an excellent means of blackmail, too good to let it go like that. Sorry, but I'm not promising anything," he replied with a sly smile.

"Little snake," Snape murmured, disconcerted. "There was a definite malfunction in that sword…and I don't want to hear any more talk about it! I've enough material to blackmail the both of you if this information gets out, and let it be clear, I won't even waste time investigating who's the instigator of the leak; I'll wreak havoc on both of you!"

This was the straw that broke the camel's back for the two Gryffindors, who burst into laughter, to Severus' distress, causing him to scowl a bit more. But despite his grumpiness, Harry could tell that the professor was satisfied. The tension in the room had dissipated, and he'd managed to distract Dumbledore from his thoughts and make Harry laugh at the same time. Oh, yes, Snape had perhaps been able to use Gryffindor's sword, but he was no less the King of Slytherin because of it, Harry realized with a certain pride.

And it felt good to laugh after all the emotion and tension that'd dogged them like a black cloud since they'd left Privet Drive.

"I don't know about you two, but I really feel better, now that this thing's been destroyed," he confessed as he pointed at the broken locket.

"And not without reason," Dumbledore approved. "The Horcruxes exert a malevolent force that affects all who are near to it."

"Which would explain many things," Severus murmured, suddenly struck by his thoughts. "How long could this necklace have been there? Certainly before Harry arrived; the wards wouldn't have let anyone carrying such an artifact enter. Who knows how much it affected the behavior of people in that house?"

"The Dursleys?" Harry asked, bemused. "Do you think they were influenced by that thing?"

"It's very likely," Dumbledore agreed as he stroked his beard. "It might not exonerate them, but it would explain the way they treated you a bit. The Horcrux could've acted on their personalities, making them bitter and hostile, while you were spared from its effects by your mother's protection. Not to mention how the insidious and aggressive magic would've certainly, albeit unconsciously, reinforced their hatred of all magical power. It's so very stupid…and very unfortunate."

Closing his eyes, Harry put his head in his hands. How many times had he wondered why the Dursleys treated him that way? What he'd done to deserve it? As he'd grown, he'd ended up deciding that that was just the way they were, and that nothing would change the fact of the matter. And here he was now, learning that a necklace, a simple, forgotten necklace in a corner of the attic was perhaps responsible for his ruined childhood.

It seemed like his stomach was twisting painfully, and a moment afterward, it was Shadow who jumped to the Potions master's shoulder, curling around his neck to better feel his warmth.

A slender hand came up to ruffle his fur, but not a word was spoken. It wasn't needed.

"On that subject," Dumbledore said gently as he watched the cat, "the shield that activated earlier to protect Harry was very effective. Is it a new version of your Protego, Severus?"

"A ramification of it, rather," Snape confirmed. "It would seem it's triggered every time Harry is attacked and I'm with him. The magic is the same as that which is now in place at the Manor, and it's every bit as effective."

"Harry no longer has anything to fear when he's with you, then, an excellent thing," the Headmaster said. "I don't know, though, if this is a piece of information to make common knowledge."

"The fewer who know it, the better, in any case. Same for the Horcruxes. With this one destroyed, there're still four out there. But come to think of it, I have a little idea on that matter," Snape said.

"What are you thinking?" the Headmaster asked with a piercing look.

"Of Nagini. The way he controls that snake isn't natural, even for a Parseltongue. There's something else going on there."

"A living Horcrux," Dumbledore began, then stopped, seeming more thoughtful than ever. Snape's black look nailed him to his chair, challenging his decision to say more about it in Harry's presence. "It's likely," the old wizard went on then, "very likely. For one thing, this locket puts us on another trail, that of objects that belonged to the Founders. Henceforth, I'm going to explore this possibility. Perhaps you'd like to dine in your rooms this evening, you and Harry?"

"Indeed," Severus sighed, starting to feel the weight of fatigue from their day. "Unless you'd like to join your friends, alley cat?" he asked Shadow.

The response was quick to come: two rows of little sharp teeth sunk into his earlobe, taking him by surprise. Snape shook his head in annoyance, before delivering a well-placed smack to the cat's nose, who let go with a yelp.

Their eyes met, those of the professor, black and furious, those of the cat, vexed and hurt.

"Albus, we're going down to my rooms," Severus said dryly. "If you need us, you know where to find us."

"Of course," the Headmaster agreed, having difficulty hiding his amusement. "Pleasant evening, my boys, and rest well. And Severus? Thank you for your help today; it was especially well done on your part. When the time comes, you'll make an excellent Headmaster."

"Don't be stupid," Snape said with irritation. "For one thing, you'll outlive us all; for another, I am absolutely not Headmaster material."

"Like you're not Gryffindor material, hmm?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes bright with mischief.

"You!" Snape growled. "You promised."

"To not speak of it openly, certainly, but to deprive myself of enraging you? That would be too much to ask of me, Severus," the Headmaster replied.

With a groan of outrage, Snape strode for the stairs with as much dignity as possible, the cat still firmly attached to his shoulder. The door, though, didn't close quickly enough to cover Dumbledore's laughter, and Shadow had to bury his nose in the Potions master's robes to keep himself from letting out a satisfied meow of his own.

Instructions had clearly been given, and not a student crossed their path as they went down to the dungeons. Hardly through the door, Shadow jumped to the floor and transformed.

"Owww, you hurt me!" he said as he rubbed at his nose indignantly.

"Perfect, that was exactly my intention," Severus replied coldly. "You'd best be ready to lose a few teeth if you dare to bite me again."

"It was just a joke," Harry protested, "I didn't really bite hard."

"Refrain from doing it, full stop. If there's one thing that horrifies me, it's being bitten by a stray animal."

"You're exaggerating," the boy insisted, all the while sensing that Snape wasn't joking. It would seem he'd touched on a sensitive spot. No more biting, even playfully, so…best to change the subject."

"I'm glad you took care of that locket. Even though I was surprised that Dumbledore let himself be swayed, I'll confess I wouldn't have liked to be in his place…it was rather frightening."

But Snape shrugged. "It was a spell that Voldemort used regularly, both on his enemies and his Death Eaters when he wanted to test them…or weaken them. Nothing very intimidating, once you realize they were only powerful illusions from our subconscious. But I'm equally surprised that Albus was taken in by them; I would've thought he'd already had to face this sort of situation before. Grindelwald wasn't the gentlest of adversaries."

"And did you see those two people who spoke to him? I wonder who that could've been,' Harry said thoughtfully.

"The little girl, I have no idea. As for the young man, though, you should know…yet given your History of Magic marks, it's understandable. By the way, it seems we should work on that."

"History of Magic? You know him? Who is it?" Harry asked curiously.

"Go find your textbook and look," Snape replied.

"Stop, don't do that to me, you've seen the size of that book? All right, all right, I apologize for the biting, it was idiotic, I didn't think; are you happy?"

"Not really, but I suppose that should suffice," the professor said.

"So, who is it? Please, you're driving me mad," the boy moaned.

"It was Grindelwald, Voldemort's predecessor, whom Dumbledore defeated in the 40's. And obviously, whom he knew very well."

"Merlin, you mean…do you realize? That this bloke, Grindelwald said, 'Out of love for me,' or something like that; do you think that…?"

"I think it's none of your affair, and we shouldn't speak of it," Snape was quick to reply.

"But still, if you say the illusions were coming from his subconscious, do you think that Dumbledore is…?"

"Gay?" Severus finished. "That being said, I've always thought he and Minerva… Merlin, I don't even want to think about it; let's talk about something else, shall we?"

"Why?" Harry asked, astonished. "I mean, if he was going out with McGonagall, I'd think it was wonderful. They'd get on well together, I think."

"Potter," Snape said, turning to look the boy straight in the eyes, "if Albus is still able to run a marathon across the school, and command Voldemort's respect, don't you think he's also capable of using his wand in other circumstances, let's say, intimate ones?"

At these words, Harry blanched, all of the sudden nauseated. "Ah, Merlin, I hadn't thought of that…you…oh, bloody hell, your mind is really twisted," he squealed.

"You're the one who pursued this topic, if you recall," Severus said sarcastically.

"Oh, no, now I have this picture in my head," Harry moaned.

"I don't even want to know which picture," Snape cut him off, "but if it helps, yes, Albus clearly plays for his own team."

"Enough with the metaphors," Harry protested, closing his eyes when he saw Snape raise an eyebrow. "No, all things considered, let's keep the metaphors. But Dumbledore and Grindelwald…I'm sorry, but that's not any better. Oh, Merlin, okay, find something else to talk about, quick, for pity's sake."

"Ah well, I'd suggest Loki and his dear papa, but I doubt we have very similar opinions on the question," Snape said ironically.

"Loki, good grief, yes, it was rather horrible, that scene with Remus. Loki didn't seem to like him much, it was really sad."

"I don't know if it could be called sad…or logical. Be that as it may, the animal seems to have found a mentor in Hagrid, which promises to make things interesting."

"I don't know if you can count on that," Harry said, shaking his head. "Remus asked Dumbledore not to let Hagrid near Loki. I suppose I can understand that."

"Oh, but Dumbledore hasn't said his last word on that," Severus said bitterly. "And if Hagrid seems to be a good piece to play on the chessboard, I don't doubt he'll give him a free hand with Loki."

"What? But Remus…"

"Albus wants to win this war, Harry. He certainly has an entirely Gryffindor conscience, but above all, he's looking for how to move his pawns in the most effective way. In Lupin's place, I'd hardly trust his grand speeches, full of sentimentalism. Dumbledore is still Dumbledore," Snape said with a slight grimace.

"But…this is his son," Harry reminded him, bewildered. "He can't do that."

"Blood ties only go so far, and I don't have the feeling that Loki is ready to recognize his father. If Hagrid turns out to have more of an influence on him, and knowing the significance the boy presents…I hardly hold out any illusions."

"Even so, I wonder what Loki was trying to do. It was really too easy; he couldn't have really hoped to get away with it like that. Don't you think it's a matter of a plan?"

"Oh, it's a strategy, very clearly," Snape agreed. "The most important thing is knowing who has a motive for the crime."

"Not Remus, in any case," Harry murmured. "He seemed distraught."

"Just now, it seems everyone has something to lose; that's what worries me," Snape mulled. "But enough talk of deception. What do you want to eat?"

"I don't know, doesn't matter. Order what you want. Chicken, maybe," Harry suggested, his stomach not pleading starvation until the idea crossed his mind. "Oh, and some fries to go with it. Um, if that's all right with you, of course."

"Of course," Snape said ironically as he shook his head and smiled slightly. It didn't take long for the platters to appear and, fatigue urging them on, the two wizards quickly downed their meal. Worn out by the events of the day, Severus got up and went for a bottle of liqueur in a cabinet.

"You're still not of age, and I wouldn't for the world want you to develop a penchant for alcohol, but I suppose if you'd like a taste—and I do mean a taste, a drop of liqueur—that would fall within the realm of the acceptable."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, but after the whiskey the other day, I think I'll take a pass."

"In that case, I won't keep you. As we'll be at Hogwarts for tonight, I plan to stay within reach of my Slytherins, in case this Loki still finds the means of instigating further riots. I'd prefer for you to sleep here as well, but I assume the dormitories will be especially well-guarded anyway."

"No, I'm staying here," Harry replied as he, too, got up. "But there's something I'd like to do before I go to bed."

Severus made a vague gesture of encouragement with his hand, then took up a potions journal lying on the low table before settling comfortably in his armchair.

"Severus, do you have the papers with you?" the boy asked softly.

Snape turned toward him slowly, one eyebrow raised questioningly. But Harry wasn't fooled; the man knew what he meant, or at least he hoped he did.

"The adoption papers," he added.

He saw the Potions master swallow before pulling a bundle of papers from his robes and handing them to him.

Harry took a determined step forward, then looked around for a quill. Finding one, he knelt in front of the low table and laid the documents there. "I just have to sign at the bottom?" he asked.

"Yes, below your name," Severus replied, his voice strangely hoarse. "Harry, are you sure you want to do this?"

But the boy only smiled and gave him a look that left no doubt. Then, leaning in over the parchments, he made a flourish as he signed the three copies of the adoption papers. He'd scarcely set down the quill, when the documents began to give off a soft golden light before floating delicately upward. One of the copies disappeared with a slight _pop, _while the two others flew, one to Harry, the other to Severus.

Once the two wizards had taken hold of the parchments, the light intensified briefly in their hands before disappearing altogether, leaving the paper delicately gilded.

Silent for a moment, Harry looked up from the document he was holding. "What does that mean?" he murmured.

"That the adoption took," Severus replied, clearly stunned. "That you accept the terms of the contract, and that you trust me enough to want the adoption. A similar spell was attached to my signature, as proof of my good faith. A copy is now being sent to the Ministry, who won't fail to react…but the most important part is done, and it seems very unlikely they'll be able to prevent anything at this stage of the process."

"So, all the better," Harry said, his smile growing as he reread the contract. "I'm really happy it's done. Thanks, Severus."

"I'm the one who should thank you," the professor said as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to comprehend. "Might I ask what made you change your mind?"

"Oh, I intended to do it," Harry assured him. "What pushed me now…it'd be a long list, wouldn't it? But to be honest, it was your Patronus."

Snape groaned, rubbing his temple with his fingertips. "Merlin, I suppose I should expect to hear about that, now that it's made the rounds of the school," he said. "But you're right, it's a good thing. Certainly not something I want to hide."

Harry hesitated for an instant, uncertain of his right to pursue the topic.

"Your Patronus before…the doe…that was because of my mother, wasn't it?"

Severus looked up, his face impassive, and nodded.

"You know, what the illusion said earlier, when you destroyed the Horcrux," Harry began, unable to withstand his new father's eyes. "You say the spell searches the subconscious, but that wasn't true. I mean, not about the spell, but…my mother would've never thought that, none of it. And James, my father…my other father, you're every bit as good as he was."

"Don't say that, Harry," Snape said gently. "You didn't know him, and what you've learnt of him definitely didn't show him in his best light. He was a respectable man, and very brave. You can be proud of him, and he'll never be any less your father because of that," he finished, pointing to the adoption parchment.

"No, that's not what I meant," Harry went on. "Just that he wasn't better than you. Everyone thinks of him as a hero, and that's deserved, but as far as I'm concerned, both my fathers are heroes. And I'm proud of both of them."

If Severus' expression remained unreadable, Harry could no less read the swell of emotion erupting within the professor at his words. Words that no one had probably ever thought to say to him. An acceptance that he'd craved his entire life. The boy sensed that, in a few short words, he'd healed at least some of his new father's wounds, offering him a bit of well-deserved peace. All of a sudden, Harry himself felt peaceful. This time, it'd happened. He'd found a family.

Severus seemed to slowly compose himself again. "Quite a few years ago, fifteen to be exact, I went to Diagon Alley to buy some ingredients," he began, enunciating each word. "That visit, alas, occurred at the wrong moment. Coming out of a shop, I spotted the persons I wanted most in the world to avoid at the time: Lily and James Potter." He swallowed hard. "They weren't alone, though. James was holding a baby in his arms. You, Harry. You were excited, and James was having trouble holding you; you'd seen a dog in the distance and wanted desperately to pet it. Lily was laughing heartily, and ended by taking you and walking you as she held your hands. From the shadows, I watched you walk away, and I thought the jealousy would strike me down on the spot. Seeing Lily happy with another, with someone else's son. For years, that vision poisoned my spirit, every time I thought of it."

He paused to take a mouthful of liqueur. "Now, though, when I think back on it, well, in truth, it's the same feeling that overcomes me. But not for the same reason anymore. I'm jealous, Harry, but not about Lily. I so much regret not having known you then, not having made the effort to go back to Lily, and even more still, not having offered to take you with me after your parents' deaths. I don't know if Dumbledore would've agreed; it's likely he wouldn't have, but I should've tried. And when I think now of all the wasted years, of what could've been. I'm not surprised that my Patronus has changed, actually. My priorities have changed as well. I'm not sure at all that I deserve to have a son, even less someone like you, Harry. But Merlin as my witness, I'll do everything in my power to be a worthy father. This probably isn't a very convincing adoption speech, but it's just about all I'm able to manage at this hour, and after such a day," he added with a grimace.

The boy burst into laughter. "I'll admit I'm not worth much more on that point; I'm dreaming of my bed, but I really wanted to do this before going to sleep."

"A thing well-done," Severus said approvingly as he smiled. "This way, we're assured of some excitement as soon as we get up tomorrow morning. I only wonder until what time Dumbledore will manage to hold back the reporters."

"Oh, Merlin," Harry moaned. "Do you really think they're going…?"

Snape raised an ironic eyebrow. "Don't tell me you were entertaining hopes that this would stay confidential?"

"I hadn't thought about it. That said, as the father, it seems to me you're the one who's responsible to face Rita Skeeter," Harry tried, not very hopefully.

"Oh, I certainly wouldn't want to steal the limelight from my son," Severus disagreed, getting up to squeeze the boy's shoulder. "It's getting late, Harry. Is your room comfortable enough?"

"I think I could sleep on a public bench, anyway," Harry yawned. "But yeah, it's perfect. I asked Ron to give me some posters; he should be bringing me some soon, to decorate. And I…" Another yawn stifled his words. "No, nothing. I'm just going to bed. Good night…Severus," he said with a shy smile. "And thanks for everything."

Snape shook his head, clearly exhausted himself. "Don't mention it, Mister Potter. And good night."

"Potter-Snape," Harry replied.

"Pardon?" Severus asked with a frown, certain he'd misheard.

"Potter-Snape. My name. Would it be possible to change it?"

"Change…you… Harry, go to bed, you're obviously completely worn out," the professor answered as he gently pushed the boy towards his room.

"No, I'm not joking," Harry protested. "Would you be all right with it?"

Severus stopped short, searching Harry's eyes. Then, after what seemed an eternity to the boy, he replied, "If that's what you really want."

Contented, Harry nodded. "I'm going. Good night."

The professor smiled slightly. "Good night…Mister Potter-Snape."

* * *

**A lot of thanks to Raewhit who translated this chapter, and wants to tell you that she is sorry for the delay! Considering how late I am on my own translations, I must say I feel totally ashamed ;-)**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you everyone for the nice reviews! As you can imagine, the adoption is not really done yet, the Ministry will not be exactly thrilled... but that's for another chapter ;-)**


	43. Interlude Chapter 43 The Day of Truth:

_This is a chapter for which I'm going to break several of my cardinal rules:_

_Firstly, never to have author's notes before the chapter (which I've done!). I find that annoying, but this time, it's essential!_

_Secondly, posting a little interlude with my chapter, which could stand alone, but it's not essential to the story itself._

_Thirdly, a sacrilege. The interlude is a song fic. In other words, open YouTube, search for Billy Joel's 'Lullabye," listen, and then read!_

_Lots of trifling sappy stuff. Help yourself!_

**INTERLUDE: Lullaby**

The alarms sounded a minute after midnight, while Severus was sound asleep. He groaned as he stretched, unwilling to leave the daze of the dream in which he'd been immersed only an instant before.

_Sing…_

What had it been about, exactly? Something having to do with a tree, and…but the fragile thread of it was already breaking. From the other side of the door, the alarm sounded again, only audible to him. Harry was having a nightmare.

_Sing!_

He rolled over. Was that still the dream, or had he actually heard that voice? Shaking his head, he sat up. The dream, of course. Harry. He had to go to Harry.

Softly, with the tread of a spy he'd developed so long ago, he moved soundlessly into the neighboring room and sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on the boy's forehead, as he had so quickly got in the habit of doing.

"Everything's fine, Harry, you're safe."

"You'll…stay?" the boy mumbled, without awakening.

"Definitely," Severus murmured. "Sleep, everything will be fine."

"And if…if he…if they…"

"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything," Snape reassured him gently, amazed to see Harry'd not opened his eyes. Wasn't it a child's privilege to talk this way when half-asleep?

"I'm afraid of…" Once again, he couldn't finish his sentence, but Severus understood anyway.

"You've nothing to fear. I'm here. I'll stay. Always."

It seemed as if the boy pushed his forehead a bit more against his palm, but that was all.

_Sing…Severus, sing!_

Snape started. The dream? The boy? The voice was in his head, he was sure of it, but…the Mark? Could it…?

Beside him, the boy seemed to have calmed, but his hand clutched desperately at his black robes, as he still frowned in his sleep.

_Please…sing._

"I…I don't know how to sing, stupid child," he murmured without really knowing why.

_You know how. Please…a lullaby._

"I don't know any…I…" Merlin, why was his voice suddenly so hoarse?

_A lullaby…just a lullaby…that's what makes nightmares go away, Sev._

That name…only one person had called him that, and it'd been a very long time since she'd used it with him. The only person, as well, who'd heard him sing, and…

_A lullaby. You can do it. For him._

But he was fairly certain he didn't know any. His mother had never sung them, and the only songs he knew were the ones he and Lily had listened to on that old turntable…songs that…

And before he had time to realize, Severus had started to hum, his eyes lost in a time long gone by.

_Good night my angel time to close your eyes  
And save these questions for another day  
I think I know what you've been asking me  
I think you know what I've been trying to say._

The old gramophone was playing, and Lily had her eyes closed. Always, for this song. He almost felt as if he could smell her scent now, light but so familiar that it was impossible not to recognize it. She would've surely rocked Harry to this song. Maybe she'd even actually done it. Was it possible for the boy to remember it? But he didn't even hear his own voice as the notes trickled out.

_I promised I would never leave you  
And you should always know  
Where ever you may go  
No matter where you are  
I never will be far away_

But the boy was his now. And Severus belonged to him as well. If only he could've known him in that time when he'd been but a happy baby, held him, seen him play with Lily. But he was here now. And despite all the wasted years, Harry was his son, whatever might happen. So little time had passed, and so much ground covered already. How was it that one could end up loving someone so completely and so quickly? He felt his heart constrict at the thought. He'd never thought to be able to feel such a thing again, but he wouldn't make the same mistake this time. He'd be there when he was needed. Always.

_Good night my angel now it's time to sleep  
And still so many things I want to say  
Remember all the songs you sang for me  
When we went sailing on an emerald bay._

And the gramophone turned and Lily danced, eyes closed, with her arms wrapped around herself. So pretty and fragile. Lily…just like your son. He wants to save the world, he doesn't want to show he's afraid, but he has nightmares so often. If only you were here, if only you'd been there to take him to the train station, to protect him from people like me. Would you've believed it, Lily, when we dragged the turntable into the field to hear our songs in the wind, would you've believed I'd hate your son when I'd see him come to Hogwarts for the first time…and that I'd hate his eyes because they'd be yours? That I'd end up by loving him, protecting him, adopting him…your son. My son.

_And like a boat out on the ocean  
I'm rocking you to sleep  
The water's dark and deep  
Inside this ancient heart  
You'll always be a part of me_

He'd have to take Harry there one day. Magnus' field, the old oak we spent so many hours under, tell him about those days, teach him how to make water mills, since that pleased you so much, Lily. So many mills. Merlin, their wheels must still be turning, somewhere…like those old records. He'd surely like that, since you liked it too. He still remembers you, you know, in his own way. And he loves you too. Yes, those wheels are still turning, that's for certain, I can hear them from here.

_Goodnight my angel now it's time to dream  
And dream how wonderful your life will be  
Someday your child will cry and if you sing this lullaby  
Then in your heart there will always be a part of me_.

Tomorrow, he'd probably officially be his son. Tomorrow. And the following month. And the year to come. One day, a day not too far off, actually, he'd be finished with his studies and leave Hogwarts to go off into the Great Life. Oh, he'll have all his NEWTs, I can promise you that, Lily. And he'll become a brilliant Auror, or whatever profession he chooses. And trust me, before long, that little redheaded Weasley will have taken over his life, like you took over his father's. But he'll have nothing to worry about, Lily, trust me. I can promise you this as well—I won't allow any prophecy, any Dark Lord, any threat to derail his life. I won't allow him to be anything but completely happy, so far as I can. And he'll have children one day, and I'm ready to bet they'll have your eyes. Your incredible eyes.

_Someday we'll all be gone  
But lullabies go on and on  
They never die that's how you and I_

_will be_

The so comforting sensation of warmth and weight against his forehead disappeared, and Harry half-opened his eyes. The voices had stopped…why? They went so well together…and were so reassuring, like a memory, or a promise. By the light of the sitting room filtering in, he glimpsed the black silhouette slip through the door, then close it softly behind him. He couldn't help but smile. He'd come…

_Sleep, my angel._

In spite of himself, Harry's eyes closed. That voice…it wasn't Severus, but he knew it as well.

_He's watching over you, my baby. Go back to sleep. You have a wonderful papa._

He smiled again. Yes, he had a wonderful… He struggled for a moment, feeling sleep steal over him, calm and serenely this time. A second, a fraction of a second only before it carried him off, he managed to slightly open his eyes, his vision blurry. But not enough to see the delicate figure turn toward him from the door, the long red hair framing that almost forgotten face.

_Good night, my angel._

**End of Interlude**

**Chapter Forty-three: The Day of Truth: Part One**

"Severus! Severus, come this instant!"

Burrowed in his bed, the Potions master expertly ignored the imperious female voice calling for him.

"Severus Snape! In my office _now!"_

Not a chance. The old biddy could shout herself hoarse as much as she wanted, he wasn't budging. After all, this was the very reason why he'd placed special wards on his Floo. Oh, and for Death Eaters as well. But for McGonagall, first off.

The sound of a door closing could be heard, followed by muffled footsteps. A few words were exchanged in the sitting room, and a minute later, predictably, someone knocked at the door to his room. Yes, there'd been a flaw in his plan. Harry.

"Severus? Are you asleep?" a drowsy voiced asked.

So much for a lie-in, Snape thought. But after all, he'd already resigned himself to such, having adopted a teenaged who, paradoxically, still didn't sleep through the night. Restraining a sigh, he sat up. "I'm coming."

The advantage of sleeping fully-clothed was in never being unprepared when awakened. After a quick freshening charm, Severus went for the door, already with a premonition of what he would find.

It was Harry who greeted him, seeming both confused and not fully awake.

"It's McGonagall," he explained as he waved toward the Floo. "She refuses to leave until you go and talk to her. Apparently, there's a ruckus."

"What a surprise," Snape said sarcastically. "Go order something to eat; I've a feeling breakfast will be quick." Then, heading for the Floo where the impatient head of his colleague waited, he said, "Good morning, Minerva. I'd say what a pleasure it is to see you so early in the morning, but that would be a shameless lie. Let's get straight to the point: what ill wind brings you?"

"Tsk, tsk, Severus, you're not a morning person?" the Head of Gryffindor asked stiffly.

"Have you ever seen me in a good mood at any hour of the day?" Snape retorted.

"You have a point," Minerva conceded with a slight smile. "Be that as it may, hurry up with your coffee or your civility potion, and meet me in my office. You have approximately two minutes to get there, you and your good disposition."

"Minerva, you're a perfect antidote for any civility potion; explain your problem, then go back and curl up in you basket and sleep, would you? It's six in the morning, and I'd like a bit of peace here!"

"We'd all like a bit of peace, Severus, especially on a Saturday at dawn," the witch hissed, 'but it so happens that Albus has been trying to hold back a horde of reporters and Ministry delegates for an hour already; would you believe, it seems a professor in this school had the splendid idea of sending bona fide adoption documents to the Ministry last night, in Harry Potter's name!"

"Imagine that," Snape said, "what an absurd idea. I'm sure the guilty party will be duly chastised. Now, might I have my breakfast in peace?"

"Severus Snape, enough of this! You know very well that I'm speaking of you!" McGonagall cried, losing her self-control, to the Potions master's great delight.

"This irritates you, doesn't it?" he asked with a small, interested smile.

"And precisely what is 'this', then: that you adopted Harry, or that you did it without warning anyone, provoking a veritable assault on the castle in the middle of the night?"

"Night?" Severus said, tilting his head to the side, obviously amused. "Well, well, could it be I'm not the only person here who isn't a morning person? And to answer your question, I'd say both of them."

This was the moment that Harry chose to enter the room, two cups of coffee in one hand and a basket of scones in the other. He was frozen in place for a moment as he caught sight of the professor's faces, who'd turned toward him. Whatever had taken place in his absence, it appeared that Snape had recovered his good humor again, while McGonagall was seething with fury from within her Floo. Harry all but would've expected to see her transform into her cat form and launch herself, claws out, at Severus.

At the sight of Harry, though, she made an effort to get a hold of herself. "Severus, in my office in five minutes at the most," she said in her most professorial tone.

"One second," Snape protested, serious once again, "why should I make a detour through your grate? I assume it's Albus who's taking care of the details."

"The details, as you call them, are precisely the ones invading the Headmaster's office, and he's trying to calm the lot of them!" McGonagall snapped, losing patience. "You're going to explain to me what you've done, and I'll make a report of it to Albus. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to go yourself into the lion's den and give an account."

"Put that way," Snape murmured, "I'll give you the exclusive. But for heaven's sake, give us ten minutes; the night was short enough as it was."

Shooting a quick look at the circles under Severus' and Harry's eyes, McGonagall quickly agreed. "Ten minutes exactly, no more. See you soon." She made as if to pull back, then stopped. "Oh, be nice and save a scone for me. With all this nonsense, I've still not had time to eat."

"And a bowl of milk. I'm starting to get used to it," Snape grumbled. "Until later, Minerva."

Outraged, the witch disappeared.

"I don't know why, but I've the feeling it's going to be a long day," Harry murmured.

"Perceptive in the morning, hmmm?" Severus answered. "I suppose I should've alerted Albus last night. But what—spoil the surprise of an early morning awakening?" He sighed. "Well. I assume the cat strategy will be worthless this morning. Anyway, you'll have to answer the Ministry's questions alone. Whatever happens, Harry, I beg you not to tell them any more than is strictly necessary. Your powers are under control, everything's fine at Hogwarts, not an Animagus wolf in sight, the Manor is a charming little country house that Voldemort has nothing to do with, and the visit to Privet Drive went off without a hitch. Is that understood?"

"Yeah, understood," Harry said, "but isn't that a few too many lies to be credible?"

"Who said anything about lies? It's just one way of seeing things," Snape said casually. "Or one strategy, if you prefer."

"I see," Harry said slowly. "When's the lecture on 'you must not lie'? I think we can scratch that one off the list, can't we?"

"You're not five. It's a little late to instill good morals," Snape replied. "That said, it's clear I won't tolerate you lying to me. Under no circumstances, understood? Don't answer my questions if they annoy you, but never hand me a lie. Your safety is much too serious a matter."

Harry nodded solemnly. As strange as it might seem, he realized, he'd never had anyone not to lie to…well, anyone who seriously cared about it. "Understood," he said as he finished his coffee. He wasn't particularly fond of the drink, but if Severus liked it so much. Well, it'd be nice to have something to share, even if it was such a small thing.

"As for the others, I'll leave you to decide to tell them, or keep it from them. I certainly will not condone your becoming a compulsive liar, but I believe the risk is minimal. As for the rest, as I told you, a bit of craftiness never hurt anyone."

Oh well, Harry thought, he'd finally had his lecture on lying. And in a way, it was a good way to start the first day of the adoption.

"Finish your scones," Severus said as he stood. "And find a new robe to put on. You have about five minutes to make yourself presentable for the Minister."

"Do you think Scrimgeour made the trip up?" Harry asked anxiously.

"For Harry Potter's adoption? I'm willing to bet that he himself put on his best robes…or ones on which my blood won't be so visible," Snape said darkly.

"It's Potter-Snape; I thought we agreed on that?"

Severus stared at him, dumbfounded. "Are you really sure you want to do that? I doubt anyone will approve of your choice. I'm not certain I approve of it myself."

"Does it bother you?" Harry asked tensely.

"No, not from a personal point of view. But there's nothing honorable about the Snape name, whether it be Muggles or wizards."

"That's not my opinion," the boy said with a shrug. "People will deal with it. They'll have to."

"Hmmm," Severus said skeptically. "Hurry up. Minerva won't appreciate us being late. Annoying our emissary wouldn't be the best way to start the day."

"I don't know why, but I thought I heard 'scapegoat'," Harry laughed.

"A different strategy," Severus confirmed, smiling slightly. "Always send a Gryffindor in the lead. Go on, before we're truly late."

Exactly ten minutes after the Head of Gryffindor's departure, the two wizards stepped out into her office, showered and neatly dressed. To Harry's great surprise, Snape had even managed to wash his hair so it'd lost its greasiness. This was definitely going to be a big day.

"Finally," McGonagall greeted them impatiently. "Albus is beginning to run out of canned sentences. So explain what you've plotted…oh, do you have my scones?"

Harry handed her the basket, and the witch thanked him with a smile. "Thank you, Mister Potter."

"Potter-Snape," Harry corrected, thinking he was probably going to have to repeat that name rather often in the near future.

"Pardon?" McGonagall asked, looking at him over the top of her spectacles.

"I'm going to change my name. The adoption, and all that…" the boy began, all of a sudden nervous under his Head of House's scrutiny.

"Is that really necessary?" she inquired with a quick look for the Potions professor.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that a problem for you, Minerva?" he asked curtly.

"For myself, no," she replied carefully, "but that won't make things easier."

"It wasn't my idea," Snape said with a shrug. "But Harry will do as he pleases, and no one else will have a word to say about any of it, let that be clear."

"Don't be naïve; the entire world will have something to say about it," Minerva replied with a small laugh. "You do realize what you've just got yourselves into, both of you?"

Lowering her head to better see over top her spectacles, she studied each wizard in turn. How these two could've managed, in the space of weeks, to be so like each other was a mystery. And which one had copied the other? But one thing was certain, the obstinate expressions the Potions master and the Gryffidor sported, the pinched lips, the frowns, the fixed eyes, were one and the same. For an instant that seemed to stretch out endlessly, Minerva McGonagall had a very clear vision of a father and son, both similar yet different, but definitely connected.

There was even a slight air of resemblance in their features, if one looked closely. The witch blinked, slightly shaking her head in her hat.

"Sit down, both of you," she directed, pointing them toward two chairs. "Severus, explain all of this to me. In a precise manner, and spare me your usual sarcasms."

Snape opened his mouth, about to retort, before changing his mind. The old biddy was right: time was precious.

"Albus and I requested adoption papers quite a while ago. We wanted to legalize the situation as soon as possible, especially after recent events. Scrimgeour couldn't hope for a better chance to put Harry under the Ministry's authority."

"One moment," McGonagall interrupted, "it appeared to me that Albus was Harry's temporary guardian."

"In theory, yes," Snape agreed. "But we had an agreement, which included all three parties, that Harry would remain my responsibility. As much as would be possible, at any rate."

"But when exactly did you make this request?"

"Several weeks ago," Severus replied. "The request went directly through child services; almost no one at the Ministry knew of it."

"Several weeks…and you only decided now?" shouted McGonagall. "What exactly are you playing at, Severus Snape? Do you want this adoption or not? I wouldn't permit you to—"

"Professor, please," Harry took his turn to interrupt, "I was the one taking my time to sign. I didn't mean to cause so many problems; I only wanted to do it at the right time. I just didn't realize it wouldn't be the right time for everyone."

"Your timing doesn't pose an actual problem, Harry," Snape assured him. "The consequences would've been the same anyway."

"Probably not if you'd done it by the book, in the presence of witnesses and a Ministry delegate," McGonagall said dryly. "The process is not very legal."

"It's not a matter of a legal case either, and everything was done according to the rules, other than decorum. I suppose the Ministry is going to want to question us now, that said," Severus finished.

"That's the least that can be said. The Minister himself has come, as well as a half-dozen Aurors, not to mention reporters and child services. You've not chosen the easiest path. Oh, on that subject, the Aurors came to arrest you, Severus," the witch casually added.

"What?" Harry choked out. "For what, exactly?"

"Removing a minor, or kidnapping, I'm not very sure. Albus is sorting out the question. The general idea is to deny the adoption, of course."

"Hmmm. It's true Harry didn't remain precisely where he was supposed to," Snape said pensively. "Whatever the case, the Animagus card won't help us much today."

"And the 'get out of prison' card, you have one of those handy?" Harry asked. "You're not going to get arrested because of me!"

"No, most likely not. But I'll leave that part to Albus; he's beginning to get used to it," Severus replied.

"A bit much for my liking," McGonagall scoffed. "That attitude will get you nowhere with the Ministry, Severus, so drop it. What excuse will you have this time? Make an effort to be credible!"

"So, my cover as a spy didn't seem credible enough to you the first time?" Snape said coldly. "Don't worry, today's should suit you amply. Harry, I don't think I'm too far off the mark in assuming that Dumbledore will've told the Minister what happened in the laboratory during Voldemort's attack."

"You're talking about the Protego?" Harry asked in a low voice. Snape nodded.

"What do you mean?" McGonagall asked, clearly exasperated. "In case you've still not understood, I'm here to serve as intermediary between you and that pack of ravenous wolves waiting for you in the Headmaster's office. Help me a bit, for Merlin's sake!"

"Relax, Minerva. You're going to upset my cat. As for our little story, Harry recently wanted to make a few pilgrimages, perfectly understandable, to his family's graves, which required some outings. He also stayed at the Manor for safety reasons, of which you'll soon know the substance. As you can verify, Harry is in fine physical shape, and is recovering gradually from his hectic summer. Does that seem sufficient to you as a press release?"

"But for pity's sake, why did you do this in the middle of the night?" the witch asked again, her shoulder's slumping in a sign of defeat.

"Inspiration of the moment," Snape replied tersely. "Everything's fine, Harry and I are ready to receive the Ministry emissaries and eviscerate the reporters."

"Severus!" McGonagall shrieked.

"…and I'd be grateful if you'd tell our distinguished Headmaster about this. Is there a place where we're awaited?" he finished.

"Stay here," the Deputy Headmistress said stiffly as she stood. "I'm going to speak to Albus. And try not to make any more problems before I return, if you'd be so kind."

With a murderous look for her colleague, she threw a handful of powder into the Floo and disappeared.

"You could still be nicer to her, she's trying to help," Harry pointed out, once they were alone.

But Snape only lifted an ironic eyebrow.

"Nice? I don't recall seeing that clause in the contract."

"You're really impossible," Harry said as he rolled his eyes. "Do you think it's going to be as horrible as she said?"

"Probably worse. The Ministry won't be happy about this matter, anyway. They'll try to make you renounce the adoption, at best, and make me guilty of kidnapping, at worst."

"But that's ridiculous; last night you said that with the papers signed, the adoption wasn't contestable anymore."

"I said _nearly_ not," Severus corrected. "We still don't have the official agreement, but at this point in the process, it's extremely rare that it can be denied. It would however be the case, if in spite of our respective good intentions, this adoption wasn't to your benefit."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Harry protested. "Since the parchment read our intentions, right?"

"I might have the best intentions in the world, and despite everything, still be a bad thing in your life. Similarly, you could want the adoption in spite of harmful circumstances. I could just as well beat you as starve you, or teach you dark magic to make you the next Voldemort. Muggles have something called Stockholm Syndrome that explains it rather well."

"But that's not the case," Harry cried. "It's ridiculous, you've never done any of that, and I'm not a masochist! I…you…"

"Harry," Snape said calmly, "I'm only trying to explain why it's necessary that the Ministry verify that everything's fine before definitely validating the adoption. They'll find nothing significant to find fault with our arrangement, and in any case, they'll make their judgment on the actual facts. It's not impossible that someone's taken the initiative to mix some fiction into the reality, and that's why I think it's not impossible for them to ask you to show your memories. If that happens, do not agree under any circumstances—do you understand?—under _any_ circumstances to be Legilimized. Offer to place your memories in a Pensieve, and carefully control what you will show them. Nothing compromising for Lupin and his progeny, and nothing too specific about our recent activities. On the other hand, it'll be an excellent opportunity to implicate Lucius Malfoy for the kidnapping this summer. It the chance comes up, don't miss it. Lucius got off with that much too easily, and even if your testimony isn't enough, unsettling him a bit more would be desirable."

"That's it, my head's spinning," Harry moaned. "You couldn't have told me all of this before I signed? Or at least before…before…I don't know before what, but before now, that's for sure!"

"There's absolutely no need for you to panic, and even less so for you make up scenarios ahead of time to answer the Ministry. Be yourself, Harry. Without wanting to vex you, you're not the best of actors."

"At least one thing where I won't have to sign autographs," the boy groaned. "What are they going to want to know most about?"

"Probably everything: our history of mutual hostility, the risks I've made you take…"

His speech was interrupted by the green flames of Minerva's arrival. Appearing stern, she headed toward them. "They're waiting for you in the Headmaster's office," she said.

"How does it look?" Snape asked quickly.

McGonagall let out a long sigh. "Not very good. But you'll scrape by, like always."

Pushing them toward the Floo then, she threw another fistful of powder. Before stepping in, though, Harry couldn't help but turn and take one last look at Snape. The slight smile the professor gave him reassured him, but not as much as the calm certainty he read in his new father's black eyes.

Taking a deep breath and lifting his head again, Harry shouted his destination and rushed determinedly into the Floo.

He backed up, though, when he landed a bit violently, as he usually did in the Headmaster's office. The place—ordinarily so peaceful—was full to overflowing with people, most of them excited, who seemed to literally explode when they saw him finally arrive.

"Harry Potter! At last! If you'll follow me, please."

"One moment, I was here before you! Mister Potter, this way!"

"No, this is more pressing, you must…"

"Move, I can't see a thing. Mister Potter, how are you? Are you hurt?"

"Well, it's clear he's under a Confundus, you only have to look at his eyes…"

"Silence!" Dumbledore thundered in his impressive voice, immediately quieting the entire group. "I believe I was clear on the fact that Harry shouldn't be upset. I'd ask you all step back at once."

Which the wizards present did reluctantly, leaving Harry there, and behind him, Snape and McGonagall.

"It's Severus Snape," growled an Auror as he stepped forward. 'You, you come with us. We have some questions to ask you."

"That's right," said a deep female voice, "do it so I don't have to take deal with it."

Harry frowned, feeling irritation steal over him. "Excuse me," he said as he stepped toward her, "you are?"

"Amanda Saintclair, of child services," said the woman with a big smile as she leant forward to hold out her hand. Her eyes, though, had a calculating gleam that the boy didn't like. "I'll be happy to discuss the matter of this adoption with you."

"Happy, huh?" Harry replied skeptically. Then, turning to Severus, he said, "I'm staying with you."

"No, no, I'm afraid that's not possible, Mister Potter…Harry, if I may? Madam Saintclair asked with an engaging smile.

"It's Potter-Snape," Harry replied, lifting his chin stubbornly. "And I'm staying with Severus."

"I'm afraid that's not the procedure, unfortunately," the witch said, her smile fading. "Interviews are conducted separately."

"Maybe, but I definitely don't have the feeling that _they're_ from the same department as you are," Harry retorted, indicating the Aurors who'd approached Severus, wands in their hands.

It was Amanda Saintclair's turn to frown. "Ah well, no," she admitted.

"But Professor Snape must be interrogated in private too," affirmed the Auror who seemed to be most senior. "That's our procedure as well."

There was a moment of silence, during which the boy shot an irritated and determined look at the Auror. Before anyone could react, the black cat had jumped to its usual perch, the Potions master's shoulder. Snape turned his head to hide a slight smile.

"Well, it seems to me there's no law against pets, is there?" Dumbledore said gaily.

"This isn't a pet," the Auror growled, his arms crossed, "but an Animagus. And what's more, an unregistered one."

"Mister Potter's status is still undecided," the Headmaster replied. "But I don't see how Harry's presence could pose a problem. Anyway, you'll have both versions of the story at the same time."

"Interrogating the suspect and the victim at the same time is more than irregular!" the Auror shouted.

"Honestly, does Mister Potter give the impression of being a victim?" Dumbledore asked as he pointed to the cat pressed against the professor's shoulder.

"That doesn't mean anything," the man grumbled. "It's not the way it's done."

"Minister?" Dumbledore asked politely as he turned to Scrimgeour, who was watching the situation from a corner of the office. "May I suggest that your Aurors question Professor Snape in Mister Potter's and my presence? That way, we'll be in a position to give you the required confirmations and clarifications. If that isn't sufficient, there will still be time to question the professor in private afterward."

The wizard rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring at Snape with sharp eyes. "Very well," he said at last. "Hawkes, you'll question the three of them at the same time. But after that, I want to be able to interview Professor Snape alone."

His eyes moved to hold Snape's, clearly indicating that this was a bargain.

"Understood," Severus finally agreed, still remaining calm.

"If this is agreeable to everyone, in that case…" Dumbledor said, raising his hands in a gesture of conciliation. "Professor McGonagall, may I borrow your office for the interview? It shouldn't take long."

"But of course. I wait for you here along with…our charming guests," she said as she turned toward the various reporters and officials who were watching them sullenly.

"Oh, and if a certain acquaintance turns up, send him to me immediately, Minerva, if you please."

Ignoring the suspicious eyes bearing down on him, Dumbledore opened the Floo again and gestured for the Aurors to follow after. A moment later, the three Aurors, Snape, Shadow, and Dumbledore left the office to enter the more peaceful one of McGonagall.

"Perhaps it would be more helpful if our young friend were to take his original form again?" the Headmaster asked, indicating Shadow.

The man called Hawkes shrugged. "For now, I'd like to go back to the events of last August 24th, the date on which Mister Potter was kidnapped by You Know Who…"

"What a surprise. It's never too late…" Snape murmured. "And what precisely would you like to know?"

"Oh, don't get smart with me. We have several witnesses who've stated having seen you there," Hawkes said.

"Oh, really?" Snape replied. "I hope you didn't pay them too much, given my role in that matter was laid out in all the papers at the time. Could you get to the facts?"

"According to certain sources, Harry Potter was, at the time—as you called it—residing with you. Do you confirm this?" the Auror asked, still calm. Behind him, his two colleagues were keeping their wands pointed at the professor, tracking his every move.

"Indeed, Mister Potter resided at Snape Manor for part of the summer. On the other hand, he wasn't there at the moment of his kidnapping; as you know perfectly well, he was at the Ministry."

"At the moment of his kidnapping, yes, but a few minutes before, he was on your property, under your guard, wasn't he?" Hawkes asked dangerously.

On his perch, Shadow felt the fur of his back stand on end. He didn't like the way this man was speaking to his Man In Black.

"That's correct. The Headmaster came to take him from my home to the Ministry," Snape replied.

"Might I ask why you didn't go with your protégé to the Ministry?" the Auror went on.

"Because Voldemort had been already calling me for two hours. I couldn't delay my departure any longer."

"He was calling you, eh?" the Auror sneered. "And how? By Floo, I assume?"

"Through the Dark Mark," Snape replied dryly.

There was a rustling among the Aurors, and Hawkes appeared satisfied. "So you admit you were a Death Eater!"

"I bear the Mark. It ends there."

"Bearing the Mark, answering the summons of You Know Who, that seems like an accurate definition of Death Eater to me," the Auror said slowly.

"Merlin, to what to I owe the honor of being questioned by the only Ministry representative who doesn't read the paper?" Snape said exasperatedly. "Bring your files up to date, make enquiries—that involvement was clarified quite a while ago; I was in the Death Eater ranks to spy on behalf of the Order of the Phoenix. How many times will it be necessary to go over this again?"

"At least once more, Professor," Hawkes retorted. "Because some of that is still a bit too hazy for my tastes. Exactly how long have you had the Mark?"

"Twenty-one years," Snape muttered.

"Not even of age when you took it, eh? Great achievement," Hawkes snickered.

"Auror Hawkes, I doubt that sort of comment is necessary," Dumbledore said calmly. The Auror only then seemed to remember his presence, and shrugged.

"And how long since you…changed sides, if that's indeed what you've done?"

"Shortly afterward," Severus replied evasively.

"When exactly? Before the Potters' deaths or after?"

"Auror Hawkes, it seems to me that this is the matter of a trial that's already taken place," Dumbledore interrupted. "Professor Snape was already working for the Order at the time, and his help was invaluable. I'd be grateful if you'd restrict yourself to the current situation."

The wizard shot him an irritated look, but then went on. "What proof do we have that you weren't part of Mister Potter's kidnapping, in one way or another?"

"It appears he's right before you, alive and well. Do you think I'd have gone to so much trouble to get him out of there if I'd wanted him dead from the start?" Snape said, arms crossed over his chest. Shadow could sense his irritation, and his pulse sped up.

"Perhaps just to pass yourself off as a hero," the Auror replied slowly as he narrowed his eyes. "Seems logical rather logical, if you ask me."

Snape clenched his jaw. "I'm not aware what you know of what went on there, but there was no room for that sort of grandstanding that night. My primary ambition is to stay alive as long as possible, and on that night, that goal was totally at odds with a desire for glory. I did what I did—brought Mister Potter back alive."

"Honestly, Auror Hawkes," Dumbledore intervened again, "I don't see what devilish plan could've produced such an outcome. The professor proved his unfailing loyalty quite a long time ago."

"But loyalty to whom, hmmm?" the Auror asked. "While we're at it, I'd like to see your Mark."

"I've already told you I have it," Snape retorted. "I don't see what more you could need."

"Simply to see it."

"No."

"Come, come," the Auror scowled, "you wouldn't be ashamed to show it?"

"Do you think it's the sort of thing to be bragged about?" Snape hissed from between his teeth. He felt the cat stir on his shoulder.

"If you've nothing to hide, show it to me," Hawkes persisted. The other Aurors took a step forward.

"You have no need to see it. I can assure you it's there. Move on to the next question."

"Maybe it'd be best to use Veritaserum," one of the other Aurors suggested. "Clearly, he's not going to cooperate."

"Good idea. Get the phial," Hawkes agreed.

"No," Snape repeated. "Stick to your questions, I'll answer."

"That's not the impression I'm getting," the Head Auror said. "And given the situation, I'm not taking any chances."

"I will not take Veritaserum, let that be clear," the Potions master hissed. "I've no intention of allowing you to pull answers from me that could be harmful to my son."

"I'm sorry, but you don't have a choice."

Grabbing the phial his colleague held out to him, the Auror headed for the professor, wand raised. Snape quickly pulled out his own and pointed it toward the man who didn't slow his approach.

"I advise you not to do that, Professor."

"Really, Auror Hawkes, all of this is unnecessary," Dumbledore intervened, placing himself between the two men. "I'll gladly vouch for Professor Snape."

"I'm afraid that's not enough," the Auror replied calmly.

"There must be another way…"

But the Headmaster was interrupted by the whoosh of green flames in the fireplace, and the appearance of a massive, familiar figure. Shadow sensed Dumbledore's relief, while Severus tensed a bit more.

"Alastor, you've come in the nick of time to settle a little misunderstanding," the Headmaster said brightly.

The Auror greeted him with a grumble and a nod, before moving towards his colleagues. "What do we have here?"

"Professor Snape isn't being very cooperative," Hawkes explained, all of a sudden on the defensive. "He's refused to show his Dark Mark and take Veritaserum."

"Like that's a surprise," Mad-Eye said ironically. "So, this is still the way you want to go about things, eh?"

"It's not that, you simpleton," Snape growled. "Your lapdogs are overzealous. They're supposed to be here for an adoption enquiry."

"Yeah, yeah…but it'd really be stupid to miss this opportunity, wouldn't it?" Moody sneered.

Shadow sensed the Man In Black's anger come to a head. The professor contained it rather well, but that certainly wasn't true for the cat. Spitting and with claws out, he threw himself at the Auror, deftly scratched his face, before jumping back to his perch again.

Mad-Eye only had time to roar, unable to trap the cat who'd quickly jumped back to hide on his protector's shoulder.

Satisfied, Snape shot Moody his most superior look. "Constant vigilance, hmmm?"

Mad-Eye gave him a murderous look, but the other Aurors didn't leave it at that. Raising their wands, they didn't waste a second in aiming at the cat and casting a Petrificus at the animal.

For his part, Snape didn't make a move to react. As he expected, a green bubble surrounded Shadow, quickly repelling the spells. He couldn't restrain the small smile stealing across his face as he saw the Aurors' stunned expressions.

"Fools!" Moody bellowed, "what're you morons thinking? You're attacking Harry Potter, you complete idiots!"

"But he…but he…" Hawkes stuttered, unable to look away from the shield that still hadn't completely disappeared.

"Do not attack my cat again," Snape said dryly. "It's both unnecessary and rude. Not to mention particularly stupid, as your superior has just pointed out."

The remark was enough to bring the Aurors back to their senses; they shot hateful looks at Snape.

"How did you do that?" Hawkes asked. "That's still dark magic!"

"No, it is not," Dumbledore assured them. "Now that everyone's here, might we finish this part of the formalities?"

"Formalities? It's not a matter of…" the Auror began, before being interrupted by Moody.

"It's all right. Snape, what's this about the Mark?"

"Your minions insist on having a visual confirmation of it, which I refused," the professor explained.

Moody considered him inquisitively for a moment. Then his magical eye began to rotate in its socket, eliciting sickened faces throughout the room, then he turned to his colleagues again. "He has one," he announced. "No surprise there."

But when he turned to Snape again, his expression seemed less hostile and more intrigued than a moment ago. "Snape, what were you up to that day at the Mafofys' when Potter was kidnapped? Bloody coincidence again, that was," he growled.

"The same as usual, trying to learn more. And if I could've got there earlier, I would've known about the kidnapping in time…but that wasn't the case. So I tried to fix things as well as I could."

"Yeah, after three days. Not exactly brilliant."

"Moody, you go and stick yourself in the middle of a troop of Death Eaters, chaperoned by Voldemort, try to grab their favorite toy away from them, and then we might talk about my effectiveness! Do me a favor, if that should happen, try to die gloriously; you'd be doing me a service," Snape bit out.

"All things said, that's just about the only thing held against you, that you came back alive," the Auror scowled. "And now, you have to do something even more half-baked, eh? Why should we trust you, exactly? Because you brought a cat back to the house?"

"Your precious Potter will never be at risk for anything again, as long as he's in my presence. Neither Petrificus, nor Avada Kedavra, whether it be from a handful of under-trained Aurors or Voldemort. Is that enough of an argument for you?"

"I'll confess that was quite a trick," Moody admitted as he scratched his beard. "Was it what I think?"

"So, you can think as well?" Snape murmured. "Think of asking for a raise, one of these days."

"That's enough, Snape!" Moody roared. "You're not in a position to play this little game; stop trying to being smart, and answer the questions. What did you invent to protect Potter?"

"I didn't invent anything; I only duplicated a weapon that's been proven over fifteen years," Severus replied. "Except this time, there will be no failure."

"I see," Moody said thoughtfully. "Yeah. That would rather tend to work in your favor. Not really the sort of plan I expected from you. In fact, if I'd had to bet on someone, you would've been the last on my list for this sort of stunt. Who put you under Imperius, Snape?"

The professor let out an annoyed sigh. "No one. Do all the testing you want, and keep your comments to yourself."

Not wasting any time, Moody did so, casting a series of diagnostic spells on the professor, who waited, immobile, for the testing to be finished.

"All right, nothing on this side," Mad-Eye mumbled. "Everything still isn't very clear. The boy was supposed to stay in the castle. From what I've understood, he was seen wandering around just about everywhere but here. Explanations?"

"Harry had a few issues to sort out, so far as the problems of this summer. Not to mention he had to go back to Privet Drive to check and make sure the wards weren't posing a problem. The cemeteries, Privet Drive, my house—I don't think those qualify as grand escapades, given that the Manor is particularly safe for Mister Potter. At no time did I jeopardize his safety; I simply did my best so that everything could be put to rights."

"Yeah," Moody said skeptically, "you'll have to convince social services of that. But Dumbledore had guardianship over Potter, so as far as I'm concerned, it's the Headmaster's problem, not yours. See?"

Severus shrugged, while beside him, Dumbledore put on a contrite face. "Indeed, I'm afraid all of this is my fault. Professor Snape was only trying to protect Mister Potter when I was too busy to do it. In that, he's proved himself admirably."

"Like I said, tell that to social services," Moody repeated. "I want the memories in a Pensieve. And not yours, you reformed Death Eater; you're more than capable of tampering with them. I want the boy's. Kidnapping, his time at the Malfoys', and that wild escape. It's not negotiable."

Severus held back a smile. Dumbledore must've had just enough time to prepare this little show, and Moody was playing his role perfectly. Just a bit more, and he'd come to feel a certain affection for the old Auror. Harry's memories would be perfect to illustrate the Malfoys' guilt, show Snape's innocence, and block out the grand finale implicating Lily and her ghostly followers. Absolutely perfect.

"Very well, bring a Pensieve, and I'll take care of it," he growled. "Harry, get down"

The cat leapt quickly to the floor, taking his human form again, though not straying far from the professor.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" he murmured nervously.

Snape nodded, before motioning with his chin toward the stone basin that Moody had pulled from his bag.

"Now, remember that day, Harry. The kidnapping. Start with the Ministry, the moment when you heard that voice. That's perfect. Let your memories unwind, up to the time when we escaped. Very good, that's enough," Snape said. With the tip of his wand, he extracted the long strands of memory, one by one, placing them carefully into the Pensieve.

At last, Harry looked up, a smile on his face. "Thanks. That feels good."

"They'll have to be put back," Snape told him regretfully. "But for now…"

Taking care, he handed the basin to Moody, who plunged his own wand within. When he resurfaced a few minutes later, he was frowning and markedly shaken.

"All right, Snape," he said. "I take back what I said. That was a masterstroke. Yeah, not too bad for an old, anorexic bat like yourself."

Severus' reply was a disgusted look, but Harry sensed his relief. Moody, though, didn't return the Pensieve.

"Have to show this to some others, so it doesn't seem like I'm mad," he explained. "Good. That's not everything, though; what about this adoption? What are you planning to make of it, and the boy? A new Dark Lord?"

"Certainly not," the professor hissed. "I intend to do what every parent does—keep him safe and give him the means to grow up and stay alive. All of that without corrupting his mind, and so far as is possible, without dark magic. I do not associate with any Death Eaters, if that's what you fear. So far as I know, Voldemort's put a price on my head, and any one of his henchmen would be happy to take it to him on a platter."

"Which also means you're a danger to the boy," Moody said.

"I don't claim to be first on the Dark Lord's list," Snape retorted. "My presence will change nothing of the gravity of threat weighing on Mister Potter. On the other hand, it will considerably lessen the danger he's in."

"Hmm. The Ministry was alerted about the little trip to the Muggles, and seeing what's happened here recently, I suppose the boy wasn't any worse off at your place besides. You know you're going to be closely watched, eh?"

"By whom? Voldemort, the Ministry, the students of this school, its staff, elves, and to sum it all up, down to the least creature of the wizarding world? Yes, I realize," Severus replied. "Other questions?"

"The artifact," Moody asked, "the birthday present. Does he still have it?"

Snape nodded, ignoring Harry's agitated movement at his side.

"Everything's fine, really," the boy finally said. "I don't know why this is such a big deal, but…I'm the one who decided about the adoption, and I know what I'm doing. Professor Snape won't put me in danger, on the contrary. Trust me."

"That's fine with me," Moody said at last, "but don't think you're going to get off so easily with social services. I'd be surprised if they agree with you. But fine, from a standpoint of the boy's safety, you have a deal."

"Wait a minute, this isn't what was planned," Hawkes protested, sensing control slipping away from him. "We have to take him to the Ministry."

"And for what? I have everything that's needed inside this," Moody replied, pointing to the Pensieve. "Maybe this bloke terrorizes the kids in this school, but so far as being a Death Eater, that's a load of tripe. I don't have time to waste with this sort of nonsense. I've more interesting fish to fry."

"We still can't allow a Death Eater, former or not, to have custody of the Boy Who Lived!" one of the Aurors said indignantly.

"Fight the bad with the bad—that mean anything to you? He knows their ways. He'll be a good bodyguard."

"But he'll influence him! He can't be allowed to do that!"

"What do take yourself for, Hawkes, a social worker?" Moody sneered. "Leave him alone. He won't influence anybody; he's nothing more than a bloody flunkey."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape stopped him with a look. Reluctantly, the boy held his tongue, then was the one to cross his arms this time.

After a moment's hesitation, Hawkes ended by agreeing. "Very well, we'll let it go for now," he grumbled. "I'd be surprised if social services lets it pass anyway, but in any case, watch your step," he said to the professor. "There's a cell waiting for you at Azkaban, and it'll wait as long as it takes."

"Albus," Moody said, ignoring his colleague, "I'm taking the Pensieve to the Ministry, and I'm taking care of this matter. We'll probably have to question these two again sometime, so keep them close by."

"Understood," Dumbledore replied with a satisfied nod. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, but I'm come back and talk to you about it later. I've more pressing things on the fire. You three," the Auror shouted in the direction of his colleagues, "go back to Headquarters and take care of the paperwork!"

The three Aurors seemed less than thrilled, but none of them dared answer back. With one last furious look for Snape, Hawkes threw a handful of Floo powder and disappeared, followed by his sidekicks.

"Good, that didn't go so badly," Moody said when they'd left. "But they'll be watching everything very closely. I'm sending Tonks to supervise all this when everything's over. On the other hand, there's been movement on the other side, especially at the Malfoys'. Any chance you know what that's about?"

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore replied. "Young Draco was the target of a recovery attempt by his father, but it failed. Everything's back in order now."

"Hmm, that famous alarm, eh? You wouldn't have a little problem on your hands, would you?"

"Problem is too big a word for it, but indeed, we have a bothersome situation. Nothing unmanageable for the time being, however," the Headmaster said with a smile.

"For the time being, hmmm? We'll have to talk about it again. Snape, nothing to add?"

"No, I don't have any contact with my former colleagues, and no other sort of information. Sorry."

"Yeah, I suspected as much. You were still more useful as a spy, but I suppose it's better like this for now. Anyway…" His magical eye focused on Severus' sleeve where it covered the Mark. "How are you handling that?"

"It's fine," Snape said coldly, shooting a look charged with menace at the Auror. "Everything is under control."

Moody barked out a laugh. "Under control, eh? You make a good pair, you two. To my way of thinking, you're not controlling anything at all, and you're going to need the cavalry before the next full moon. Bah, not such a change from the usual. Constant vigilance! Constant vigilance!"

Ignoring Snape's roll of his eyes, he turned toward Harry, pointing a threatening finger. "And you too, boy. Don't think a pretty little magical shield will get you out of every situation. Even if I have to admit you've made a wise choice here. Keep your guard up all the time, understood?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied with a grateful smile.

"Good. I'm sending Tonks and a few imbeciles to mind the shop, and I'll call you when I have something new. Watch out for the social worker and her cronies; they're more cunning than they seem. Would surprise me if they came out of Hufflepuff. See you later, Albus. Snape, Harry."

Then, not wasting any further time, he headed for the Floo, Pensieve in hand, and disappeared into the flames.

"One good thing done," Snape groaned. "Now, Scrimgeour. Harry, you go with that woman, Saintclair, and try to convince her that everything's all right. I'll join you as soon as possible."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Harry agreed. "Do you think the Aurors will come back? Mad-Eye short-circuited them a bit."

"Not right away, anyway. And don't underestimate Saintclair. I suspect Moody has reasons not to trust her. Albus, I'm counting on you to supervise all of that?"

"Of course, my boy. I suggest you stay here; I'll send our Minister to you in a moment. Harry, if you'll follow me, it wouldn't be good to make Madam Saintclair wait too long."

"You really can't come?" the boy asked Snape anxiously. "I don't have a good feeling about this. She doesn't want this to work, I just know it."

"The Headmaster will be with you. It wouldn't be wise for you to be by yourself. If something goes wrong, you'll only have to send him a signal. Everything will be fine, it's an entirely routine interview; be yourself and it'll turn out well," Severus assured him.

And if that weren't the case, he'd know it immediately, he thought. The Mark that Moody hadn't missed wouldn't fail to let him know. The old Auror's discretion had surprised him; he'd expected he'd demand an explanation, but after all, the wizard knew how to be subtle when he had to. No doubt, however, that he'd have to quickly come up with an explanation at some point.

But for now, Scrimgeour was the most pressing. And _that_ part of this risked being just as demanding and closely-conducted.

"Go on," he told the boy. "Albus, I'm counting on you not to let him out of your sight."

"Don't worry, your cat is safe with me," Dumbledore affirmed with a large smile, before throwing a fistful of powder into the Floo.

"See you later, then," Harry said reluctantly, heading for the flames.

"Be good," Severus instructed with a smile.

Slightly comforted by those two words, the boy landed in the Headmaster's office, immediately assailed by camera flashes.

"Harry Potter, who pushed you to agree to this adoption?"

"Was Professor Snape arrested?"

"Are you going to look for a new family?"

"Stop!" Harry shouted, irritation getting the best of him. "No, Professor Snape wasn't arrested, and no, I won't be looking for a new family; I already have one. You couldn't, I don't know, find something else to be interested in?"

"Come on, just a word for…"

"That's enough," Dumbledore cut in. "Mister Potter is expected for an interview. Madam Saintclair, I think we could use the library, if that suits you."

"We? I'm sorry, Headmaster, but children's interviews are strictly confidential," the social worker replied with a frozen smile.

"I do understand, and rest assured that all discretionary measures will be respected. But given Mister Potter's situation, precautions are necessary, and I must watch over his safety."

"I'm not sure…"

"What's more, his father has expressly asked."

"Yes, well, this adoption isn't official yet," the witch said stiffly. "Professor Snape has no say in this just now; he's not this young man's official guardian."

"Indeed," Dumbledore admitted, "I am, on the other hand. So I believe my presence shouldn't pose a problem."

"I see," Madam Saintclair murmured. "Well, if that's absolutely necessary, but I insist our conversation remain entirely private so Mister Potter can freely express himself."

"That's understood," the Headmaster conceded. "If you'll follow me… Oh, and Minister, Professor Snape is waiting for you in Professor McGonagall's office. Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," the wizard simply agreed, before taking his turn at the Floo, leaving a horde of reporters and a few markedly vexed officials.

On the other side, a hardly impressed Potions master was waiting for him.

"Minister," Snape greeted him, slightly inclining his head.

"Ah, Professor Snape, I've wanted to meet with you for a long time," the wizard began. "The circumstances, my god, merit it. Sit down, we'll be more comfortable."

Severus complied, every one of his senses on alert. Even a while ago, he would've welcomed the chance gratefully, but today, this was about protecting Harry and the nature of the family they were making, and it was out of the question to resort to these little games.

"How can I help you?" he asked in his most courteous tone of voice.

"Well, in quite a few things, actually," the Minister replied, his piercing eyes seeking to decipher his questioner's expression. "It would seem you're about to become Harry Potter's guardian,

"Indeed."

"Hmmm. You won't be surprised if I tell you I'm more than reluctant to confide the guardianship of such a child to a former Death Eater."

"As you've just said, Minister, _former_," Snape clarified. "After having spent these last years spying on behalf of the Order, I hope my loyalty is no longer in any doubt."

"No, that's not wherein lies the question," Scrimgeour said soothingly. "We all have the same objective here: protecting the boy in every possible way. He's much too important for the least risk to be taken."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "He's at no risk with me, if that's what you're insinuating."

"I'm not insinuating anything. This place isn't secure for Mister Potter. Too many things are happening, and Dumbledore is proving too old to fully guarantee the safety of the grounds."

"That's not my opinion," Severus retorted tersely. "In addition, I'm here to watch over Harry fulltime."

"That point is definitely in your favor," Scrimgeour agreed. "But don't you wish to provide the best for your new…son? Safety, the best education, peace and quiet, an ideal framework in which he could thrive…under your wing, of course."

"Might I know exactly to what you're referring?"

"Doing what's best for the boy. You're not going to claim an attachment to your post as Potions professor to the point of not wanting to leave it, even if it means giving up Mister Potter. No one here is unaware of your aversion to teaching. You're a talented Potions master; you're wasting your time here and you know it. On the other hand, it just so happens that the Ministry Research Department is currently seeking a potions master to pursue studies on various potions still classified as secret."

Research. Being paid to create new potions, test their effects, without a single stupid child interrupting him with idiotic questions and untimely cauldron explosions. Oh, the man was crafty…but the pretext was plain for all to see.

"And Harry, during that time?" he asked in his most neutral voice.

"He would of course be in the charge of the best private tutors, and his curriculum would be enriched with other subjects, like languages and philosophy, or even the study of mythology. It seems to me these subjects are not taught at Hogwarts, which is truly an oversight. You'd both be quartered in an official Ministry house, with the usual school breaks and holidays free. It's understood there'd be no comparison between your salary there and what you're currently paid here. It's regrettable that a wizard of your competence is so poorly compensated."

"I see," Severus said slowly. "In clear terms, you're suggesting I withdraw Harry from Dumbledore's influence and place him under your own."

A flash of dissatisfaction passed through the Minister's eyes, his face tightening quickly, as if he were dropping a mask.

"See it rather as in your protégé's best interest," he answered. "You know I'm right. We'll all benefit from it. I'll push your adoption through, and you'll acquire an interesting position, as well as an ideal structure for the boy. I really don't see anything in this that could bother you."

"The principle itself, most liekly," Snape said. "Besides the fact, of course, that Harry wouldn't for even a second entertain accepting your offer."

"Are you the adult here or not? Mister Potter will do what you tell him to do!" the Minister roared.

"Probably," Snape said with a slight smile, "and that's why I would never ask him to do something he'd find so horrifying."

"And here I just was, thinking of putting your name up for the Order of Merlin," Scringeour murmured. For an instant, Severus almost laughed. The medal…Fudge certainly wouldn't have forgotten to mention this sort of detail to his successor. And to think that it'd been so important a few years ago. Shaking his head, he stood.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't be of any use to you," he told the wizard facing him, the threat clear in his eyes. "Perhaps you've been poorly informed, but switching sides isn't one of my specialties. Don't confuse a spy with a turncoat."

"It rather seems that it's you who are confusing things," Scrimgeour hissed, his face markedly red now.

"Be that as it may, Harry will remain at Hogwarts as long as his safety won't be compromised. If that should happen, however, we'll make changes at the necessary time. But I doubt the Ministry routinely makes itself a refuge for just anyone."

"Don't gamble on it, Snape," the Minister said. "You think you can let yourself use that tone with me, now that you're applying for Harry Potter's guardianship, but let me remind you that you've not got it yet! And without its support, you're nothing, absolutely nothing!"

"Fortunate, in that case, that I harbor no Ministerial ambitions," Severus replied with a slight smile. "Is there anything else?"

"Not for now," Scrimgeour said as he stood. "But watch yourself. Your every move will be observed and analyzed, and with the slightest step out of line, a cell is waiting for you at Azkaban. And that one will be neither warm nor safe."

"I seem to have heard that threat already today," Snape said, annoyed. "Perhaps if the Ministry were to occupy itself more with watching Death Eater activities and movements, and less those of people who are—as you've said—of little importance, this war would turn more quickly in our favor. Whatever, be advised that Harry Potter is not for sale, Minister, and he'll still be here, long after you've left office. Don't meddle with this. Don't meddle with him."

"Is that a threat?" the wizard growled.

"A simple declaration. Think about it. This adoption will go forward, with or without your approval. Turn against Harry now, and he'll never forget it. And nor will I, by the way."

"I see," Scrimgeour said slowly. "That's the game you want to play."

"I'm not playing," Snape replied. "Not with my son—ever."

"Think about it as well, Snape; my proposition isn't out of self-interest, no more than it is unethical. You'll only find benefits there, I guarantee it. Dumbledore isn't ready to relinquish his influence on the boy. Believe me, he'll do everything he can to throw a spanner in the works."

"As I told you, we'll manage things as they come, in our own way. And now, if you've no objections, I'd like to rejoin Mister Potter. It's going to be a long day," Severus said firmly.

"Very well, I won't hold you back," Scrimgeour agreed, then added, "You've changed, Snape. I congratulate you on your new priorities, but don't forget what I've said."

"One step out of line, and Azkaban, yes, I understood the first time," Snape growled. "Have a good trip back, Minister. I assume Albus will notify you when everything's finished here."

"That won't be necessary. See you very soon, Professor."

Without losing further time, Severus gave a stiff nod, then threw a handful of powder into the Floo.

* * *

**Hi everyone! Merry christmas and Happy New year a bit in advance! I hope you had a lot of Snape under your tree ( mine was desperately Snape-free, such a shame) !**

**Here comes a new chapter in double form; I can't remember how the idea of the Interlude came, but it really wanted to be there! Raewhit noted that the song in question was from 2003- a way too young for the purpose; I must admit that for this one, I conveniently didn't check. I usually do, and make sure the songs that Lily and Severus listen are from their time, but this one just wanted to be there, so... well ok I'm a Billy Joel addict and I love this one so very much!**

**Anyway, a lot of thanks to Raewhit who not only translate this story super-fast, but also corrects my mistakes! Which really represents a lot of work, trust me! **

**Also, she is soon going to catch up with me, and that is no good news for you guys ;-) because I am actually a slow updater those days... but I'll try to make an effort! For my defense, I am also a WoW addict, and I have a full time job, wonder when I find time to sleep! ;-)**

**A lot of puuuuurrs from Shadow and Se... ok, ok, stop hitting me, right, Severus is NOT purring! At all! Ahem.**


	44. Chapter 44 The Day of Truth: Part Two

**Chapter Forty-four: The Day of Truth: Part Two**

"Come in, Mister Potter, please," the social worker said politely with a gracious smile. "Professor Dumbledore, I'd like you to sit out of the young man's sight before I cast an Insonatus. The back of the room will be perfect."

"Ah well, here I am, sat in the corner, one might say," Dumbledore said with a little laugh. "Harry, I'll be just behind you. If something should make you uncomfortable, don't hesitate to signal me, understood?"

The boy nodded while the witch settled herself facing him, her lips pursed. She hurried to cast soundproofing charms before making a pile of parchments appear in front of her, then turned to him, her eyes exuding sympathy.

"Mister Potter…first, are you all right?" she asked, her head cocked to the side.

"I suppose I'd be better if everyone wasn't so worked up about all this, but yeah," Harry replied. "While we're on it, I'd like to change my name to Potter-Snape; are you the one to talk to about that?"

"Well, yes, actually, but first let's start at the beginning, if you will," Madam Saintclair said, slightly off-kilter. "Above all, know that you're perfectly safe here, that the Ministry's here and will make sure everything goes smoothly. If you'd like this interview to take place somewhere else, you only have to say the word."

"No need. I want to stay at Hogwarts and get this over with as quickly as possible. I understand what you mean." Despite his resolve not to become irritated with the witch and thus jeopardize the adoption, Harry felt himself growing impatient. And what were the Aurors doing with Snape right now? He didn't like that…his Man In Black should've been with him. He sensed his body beginning to stretch in spite of himself and had to summon all his concentration to keep from changing into the cat again. This really wasn't the time!

"Very well," the social worker continued, "in that case, I'd like to go back to the dispute that brought you into conflict with your original family."

"My original family?" Harry asked, surprised. "My parents died when I was a year old; I didn't have any dispute with them."

"Actually, I was speaking of your uncle and aunt, of course," the witch corrected soothingly.

"Oh. Yes, there's not much to say…"

"On the contrary, I think there is," Madam Saintclair insisted. "It would appear that before the terrible tragedy that destroyed your family, a complaint had been filed against them for mistreatment. The trial couldn't take place after their decease, quite obviously, but I'd like to know more about what led to those proceedings, Harry. What happened?"

"I don't think I gave you permission to use my first name," the boy said dryly before catching himself. Bloody hell, the woman was doing the best she could. He had to calm down. "The relationship with my uncle and aunt wasn't ideal," he finally replied. "It got worse this summer. My uncle turned out to be rather…brutal. I had to run away. That's how Severus ended up taking me in."

"Hmmm, took you in, did he?" the social worked said skeptically. "But Professor Snape's residence is rather far from your family's. How were you able to get there? Did you already know its location?"

"No, it's…a long story. Listen, I can't explain it to you, just that there was a good reason for it. I wasn't trying to go there myself, but…it's the best thing that could've happened to me," Harry finished. At his words, he saw a spark of triumph in the witch's eyes.

"Really? Mister Potter, let's be frank. This interview is strictly confidential, and I'm held to secrecy by an Unbreakable Vow. My notes will only stipulate a favorable or unfavorable opinion, and in case of the latter, a very concise explanation as to why. You can speak freely."

"I don't know what you want from me," Harry said in frustration. "I've told you the truth."

"Very well, allow me to tell you about the rumors circulating through the Ministry on the matter of the way Professor Snape…took you in," Madam Saintclair suggested. Harry quickly felt another wave of antipathy wash over him. Rumors…again. As if he and Snape both hadn't already had enough of them.

"It would seem," the witch continued smoothly, "that the wards protecting your house abruptly fell the night you disappeared. In addition, reliable sources spotted Death Eaters in the street at that precise moment. According to these rumors, Severus Snape was among them, and he would've discreetly shielded you from the sight of his colleagues, which is to his credit. He would've then hidden you at his home for several weeks, in an Animagus form assumed by dark magic, and would've tried to exert his maximum influence on you, hidden away from the Ministry, the Order of the Phoenix, and You Know Who, until discovery was inevitable. Weeks he would've profited from to make you see things his way, all the while making you believe he'd saved you from a disastrous fate. There are potions for that, Mister Potter, potions that bind you to another person and make you develop a loyalty like none other."

"That's enough, stop it!" Harry exclaimed, unable to hold back his anger any longer. "That's completely ridiculous, how could you imagine…"

But when one came down to it, was it so ridiculous? Because, come to think of it, he could very well imagine it. For anyone who'd known him in the a few months before, who'd seen him in class with Snape, all of it would've seemed perfectly logical, in fact. He sighed, trying to defuse his irritation.

"No, things absolutely didn't happen like that. Since you want details, all right: it so happens I was wearing something that day…a magical object that was given to me as a gift." He saw the witch open her mouth to interrupt, but he didn't give her the chance. "And I won't say more about it, so let me finish! This object led me to a safe place. To the place my mother wanted me to be. And that place was Professor Snape's house. I don't know if he was with the Death Eaters who went to Privet Drive; I didn't see them, but he didn't kidnap me—I'm the one who went to him. And since I was in my other form, he didn't know it was me, not until a certain time later…and at _that_ moment, he alerted Dumbledore right away, and he decided it was safer for me to stay where I was. Does it seem better, put that way?"

"Hmmm," she said, clearly unconvinced. But seeing she'd hear nothing more of this story, she changed topics. "Exactly how was it, speaking of your Animagus form, that no one knew about it? It's a very risky undertaking, Mister Potter, and illegal if not registered. So, who put you up to it?"

"No one!" Harry protested. "I didn't even know I could do it before it happened. And I stayed stuck in that form without remembering my other one for weeks! Even now, I'm not always sure of controlling what happens very well."

"I see," the social worker said skeptically. "You'll have to be examined, that's certain. But to go back to your family…"

"They're dead, all right?" Harry said tiredly. "Leave them in peace. Maybe they were horrible, but they're not here to defend themselves anymore."

"You confirm the accusations of violence, mistreatment, lack of nourishment?" the witch asked calmly.

"Yes," the boy replied, staring at the wall across from him. "They were never really my family, and now I have the chance to have one, so try not to mess that up. Please?"

Madam Saintclair smiled, but Harry didn't like the looks of it.

"We're all here for your welfare, Mister Potter, you have nothing to worry about. However, it's obvious that you're a fragile young man…"

"I'm certainly not fragile!" Harry protested.

"Well, if what you're telling us is true, though, you've had a difficult childhood, and you'll need a new family who's skilled at handling these sorts of problems. Mistreated children, you see, have special needs."

"Severus knows perfectly will how to _handle _me, as you say. Don't trouble yourself about that. He's all that I need," the boy muttered.

"Really, Mister Potter, you seem very attached to Professor Snape. Perhaps a bit excessively…or should I say obsessively?" Madam Saintclair murmured.

"Excuse me?" Harry choked out, feeling his anger ratchet up a notch. "For the first time in my life, I've found an adult who wants what's best for me, whom I can trust, who doesn't see me like some sort of circus freak, and you find it excessive that I choose him as my family? Where did you get your credentials—in a packet of Chocolate Frogs?"

"No need to take that tone, Mister Potter," she answered dryly. "I've already told you, I've only your best interests at heart."

"It's in my interests for the adoption to take place!" Harry replied obstinately.

"Of course, but have you considered the number of families who'd be thrilled to take you in? Numerous individuals put themselves forth as candidates following the decease of you aunt and uncle, families very well-known in our world, very respectable…"

"What do I have to do for you to understand?" Harry said, losing his temper. "I'm not a three-year-old, I'll be of age in less than a year now, and I've chosen my family—I've chosen Snape! I need him, and he needs me; it'll be him or no one!"

"Needs you…you acknowledge that, then!" Madam Saintclair said, her voice grating.

"Because we get on so well!" Harry shouted. "He doesn't have any family, and there's really something special between us…is that so hard to understand?"

"Oh, no," the witch replied, her face all of a sudden frozen as if by a revelation. "On the contrary, it's very clear. Mister Potter, I'm afraid that despite everything, you're on the wrong track. As you yourself have pointed out, you'll be of age in a year, and will be able to freely choose your partners. But conversely, it's totally unacceptable to even consider having you adopted by this so-called partner."

"What…oh no, not that again," Harry moaned.

"Again?" Madam Saintclair asked.

"Ron…one of my friends made a stupid statement of that sort too. You're totally off the mark. For pity's sake, he's the same age as my parents. There's nothing like that between us; he's like my father and I'm like his son, he's already told me this, there's nothing more than that!"

"Are you so certain, Mister Potter? Has Professor Snape ever tried to touch you in, let's say, an inappropriate manner?"

"Of course not! Much the opposite…he's protected me from attacks, and he even comes to comfort me at night when I have nightmares." Harry knew the moment the words were out of his mouth that he'd just said something stupid, but it was too late to take it back.

"Nightmares, hmmm?" the social worker murmured, a triumphant smile on her face. "Mister Potter, let's face facts. Is that really normal? For him to behave in such a way with a teenager your age? Entering your room at night? How many times have you slept in the same bed as Professor Snape?"

Harry thought he was going to be sick. Merlin, this woman was so…this entire conversation was…and how was he supposed to get past this point? He had well and truly already slept in Snape's company, in his cat form most often— unbeknownst to his master—but Severus had also fallen asleep in his bed, that particular time he'd come to reassure him in the middle of the night. Poor Snape. He'd definitely only get him in trouble for it.

"You don't understand anything at all," he sighed. "You're sworn to secrecy, hmmm?"

Madam Saintclair nodded, beaming with satisfaction.

"All right, keep this to yourself. Severus was in love with my mother. She's been dead for a long time, but I think he still loves her as much… Anyway, he's stubborn enough to never change his mind about that. It's got nothing to do with me; he's not interested in that sort of thing."

"I think, on the contrary, it has _everything_ to do with it," Madam Saintclair murmured. "You have certain traits that are very much like your mother, I believe. A transference is more than probable."

This was too much for Harry, who turned toward the back of the room. "Professor Dumbledore, please?"

The Headmaster couldn't hear him, but clearly understood his intention when he saw the expression on Harry's face. He hurried to come closer, shooting the social worker a stern look as he did. She dropped the spells in place with a sigh.

"Things aren't going as foreseen?" he asked.

"Of course they are. Mister Potter is just a bit stressed, which is very understandable," the witch said calmly, clearly unhappy with the interference.

"No," Harry replied. "She doesn't want to approve the adoption; she wants to persuade me to abandon Snape. I can't make her understand she's wasting her time, and she's getting unpleasant and insulting. That's enough of this, couldn't we find someone else?"

"I see," Dumbledore said, his eyes hard as he watched the social worker nervously rearrange her papers. "Madam Saintclair, might I know what bothers you so much about this adoption? Professor Snape has been in charge of Mister Potter for several months now, and the result has been more than satisfying."

"That's what you say," the witch sneered. "I see here a young man with a very troubled past, who's been entrusted to a man with questionable motives, along with a very dark past of his own."

"Professor Snape was cleared of all suspicion concerning his activities in the service of Voldemort," Dumbeldore corrected her. "He's displayed great courage and unfailing loyalty for our cause."

"That's one thing" the social worker admitted, "but he remains no less a violent person, both physically and verbally. Spying or not, he's completely familiar with torture and dark magic, not to mention his relationship with Mister Potter here, which has been described by all the students and professors questioned as particularly stormy. It verged on the limit of abuse, if I might say so, almost to the extreme."

Harry felt the slight headache that'd been threatening for several minutes already transform into a veritable migraine. Now they were down to it—an argument he couldn't deny. He'd dreaded this moment more than any other.

"It's true," he interrupted. "Severus was horrible to me in class. Since the start. Hateful. Unfair. Say what you will, he had reasons for it, and take it from me, they weren't good ones. But all that's changed, all right? We've talked a lot about it…he knows me now; he knows I'm not…like my father. I can't explain how it could all change in such a short time, but it has. And in spite of everything he could've done to put me down in class and make me crazy…he protected me from real danger, ever since the beginning. So I think that more than makes up for the rest, doesn't it?"

"Humph," Madam Saintclair said, "that's something I'll explore with Professor Snape."

"There's something else you must know, Madam Saintclair," the Headmaster added gravely. "Severus has sworn to protect Harry, and that, years ago. He'd never do him any harm, that's a certainty. He's definitely played his role as well as he could, for better or for worse, in his master's service, but it's entirely unthinkable that he'd ever raise a hand to Harry. You have my word on it."

"Professor Dumbledore," she replied calmly, looking him straight in the eyes, "must I remind you that you yourself filed a request for an inquiry into possible mistreatment of this same Severus Snape by his parents, while he was a student of this school?"

Harry jumped, staring wide-eyed at Dumbledore.

"Indeed, I remember it very well, but I confess I don't see the relationship between these two matters."

"Your suspicions were well-founded, actually," the social worker answered, pulling a parchment from the pile. "The Snapes had to pay a stiff fine not to lose the boy. A fine paid by Arthus Prince, in fact. And if there's a well-known statistic, it's that battered children are inclined to repeat this same scenario, once they become parents themselves."

"A fine?" Dumbledore murmured. "Your department let Eileen get away with a fine, and let her keep her son?"

"Please," Madam Saintclair said dryly. "The boy was already older, and he didn't want to be placed. Besides, the mother agreed to take a parental rehabilitation course, which went very well. But that's not in question here."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Your statistics are just numbers. Harry is sixteen; he's perfectly aware of his rights and his duties, and wouldn't for an instant entrust his own guardianship to a violent person, I'm convinced of that. Madam Saintclair, I know you're doing your job, but trust Mister Potter—trust his instincts and his judgment. After all, many things in our world depend on these qualities of his, don't they?" he asked gently.

"Precisely," the witch retorted. "Precisely. Far too many things to take such risks. Severus Snape is a dangerous individual with more than questionable intentions, and a past that is much too dark in many ways. Honestly, Headmaster, why would this man—known for his hatred for Harry Potter and his parents, for his desire for glory, and his deeply antisocial behavior—suddenly want to adopt a sixteen-year-old who just happens to be the hero of our world? You'll admit this is hardly believable."

"I'd say it's not likely," Dumbledore corrected, "but nonetheless true. Circumstances, Madam Saintclair, sometimes make a strange book out of life, one that no one would've imagined."

"I'm afraid these circumstances, despite everything, are not enough," the social worker said firmly. "Mister Potter himself here is so nervous and secretive about all of this that I hardly see reason to allow myself to be convinced otherwise."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore silenced him with a gesture.

"In that case, perhaps you'd agree to be convinced by the people who've been with Professor Snape and Harry recently?" the Headmaster suggested.

"That is part of the process anyway," Madam Saintclair replied, "but I want to hear from _all _the concerned parties, not just those you wish produce, let that be clear. But first, a medical exam is necessary. Mister Potter, if I may?"

"What's this all about?" Harry asked reluctantly, feeling the matter getting out of hand. He wouldn't let it happen. No, he wouldn't let it happen. If the Ministry denied the adoption, he'd refuse any other family, and push the weight of his celebrity to make them change their minds. If he had to, he'd run away. Snape would surely agree…but for now, he had to try to convince Saintclair, and the entire matter seemed to be off to a worse start than he'd thought.

"Simple diagnostic spells." she reassured him. "Perhaps it'd be better if you sat down, though. These spells can cause slight dizziness sometimes."

Dizziness? Harry wasn't at all sure that he liked the idea of losing control of himself, here, facing this woman, even if it were only for a few seconds.

"Where is Professor Snape?" he asked nervously. "Couldn't he come?"

"He's busy for now, Harry, but you have nothing to fear," Dumbledore reassured him.

The boy hesitated for a moment before finally sitting down again. No, he didn't like this, but if Severus had been there, he would've probably told him to stop acting like a spoilt child. Even if Dumbledore's presence was comforting, he still would've definitely preferred for Severus to be there.

Madam Saintclair, though, hadn't lied. The spells weren't painful, even though he felt his entire body rebel against the exam, leaving him drained.

"Everything is fine," the social worker announced at last. "I think we can set aside the possibility of sexual assault."

Harry sensed the Headmaster freeze at his side.

"Madam Saintclair," he began icily, "I think you're on the wrong track. Professor Snape swore to protect Harry when he was still but a baby. This adoption is only a logical conclusion of his dedication to the boy. You'll have the proof of it when Severus returns."

"Hmmm," the social worker said, clearly skeptical. "We shall see. Mister Potter, anything to say on the matter?"

Harry clenched his teeth. "Potter-Snape. Don't forget that. All I have to say is your approval hardly matters. Severus is my father, whether you want it or not. You can't do anything about that. I won't agree to any other family, and I'd follow him anywhere. He's done more for me than anyone else…even my own parents," he admitted reluctantly. "I love him like a father and I won't let anyone take that away from me."

"Your feelings are one thing, Mister Potter, but I'd like you to remember that it's up to the Ministry to watch over your well-being for now. And as much of a celebrity as you are, that will change nothing about he final verdict," the social worker said dryly.

"You don't have anything to use against us," Harry muttered. "And I'm not letting you direct my life."

"I'm sorry, but technically you don't have a great deal to say about the matter, young man. The final verdict lies with us, and you'll abide by the Ministry's decision, whatever it is."

"And what could you do about it, huh?" Harry sneered. "Professor Snape lives at Hogwarts like me. You won't stop us from going on like before."

"Professor Snape was appointed by Ministry order, and can be let go at any time," the witch reminded him dangerously. "As for yourself, while a ward of the Ministry, you can also be relocated to a different school, and forbidden contact with the professor if that's necessary."

The boy literally saw red. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, the final provocation in a long string of frustrations. No one, absolutely no one, was going to keep him from staying with Snape. A crimson veil obscured his vision, and he felt his blood begin to boil as he stared at Saintclair, rage taking control of his being. His powers seemed to literally explode within him, and an instant afterward, a loud _crack_ rang out in the room, at the same time as a stifled cry. All eyes turned to the form that'd just appeared beside Harry.

A very recognizable human figure.

Gasping, Snape couldn't keep himself from staggering, falling to his knees, then quickly stood again, his hand clamped on his forearm. Merlin, what had just happened? Had Harry really…? It was impossible! Not here, not in Hogwarts where the wards prohibited Apparition. And to make him Apparate like that, against his will, by simply willing it…this had never happened before.

"Harry?" he asked as he turned to the boy who hadn't moved, his eyes riveted on the witch in front of him. All around him, the air seemed to vibrate…with rage, he realized. Carefully, he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Harry. It's all right."

"No, it's not all right," the boy hissed between his teeth. "This woman…she doesn't want to approve the adoption. She doesn't want it to be you."

"I…I…" the social worker mumbled, eyes wide and obviously frightened.

"Madam Saintclair, might I suggest you sit down," Dumbledore suggested, indicating a chair sufficiently far away from Harry.

The witch needed no further encouragement, and fell gracelessly into the chair. Magic filled the room, electrifying the air, especially around the social worker who seemed paralyzed.

"Harry, are you all right?" Severus asked calmingly.

"Better now," Harry replied.

"Harry, in English, please."

The boy blinked and turned to Snape in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Just that, exactly. You were speaking in Parseltongue."

It was Harry's eyes that widened in surprise this time. "I was? I didn't realize…I was angry. Oh, how did you get here? I didn't see you come in."

"My presence was clearly wished for," Severus said laconically, resisting the urge to rub his still-painful arm. "What happened?"

"It was her," Harry said hostilely, pointing to Madam Saintclair. "She doesn't want the adoption. She was threatening to make you lose your job and forbid me to see you. She doesn't understand."

"Indeed, I suppose not," Snape murmured. "Her colleague scarcely seems more enthusiastic. Obviously, we—"

But before he could finish, a door was thrown open, and all eyes turned to the man who'd just entered, seeming both furious and triumphant.

"There he is! He didn't get very far. You thought you could get away from us, eh? Seize him!"

Two agents broke through from behind him and rushed toward Sanpe, wands in their fists. Spells streaked toward the professor, but not quickly enough, though. With a stifled oath, Severus himself brandished his wand; spells ricocheted, crashing against the walls.

The agents swore then, ready for another attack.

"Don't make your situation any worse than it is, Snape, give yourself up!" shouted the wizard who'd come in first.

"Lower your wands at once! You're not on a battlefield, by Merlin!" Dumbledore shouted furiously.

But the wizards hardly spared him a glance before incanting again.

Snape ground his teeth. Hopkins had never had the least intention of approving this adoption, and even less the possibility of leaving without having charged him with some crime…too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Defending himself, on the other hand, had perhaps not been the best idea. The old reflexes had asserted themselves, but he could hardly sustain a second frontal attack with the little magic left in him after that forced Apparition. Merlin, did Hopkins realize what had just happened?

An icy shudder ran down his spine. In addition to being a former Ravenclaw, Hopkins was also a former Auror. One of those who'd doggedly tracked him down years ago. Hadn't he wounded him in the course of a battle? He could no longer remember.

His two sidekicks were already launching another attack, ignoring the Headmaster's protestations and orders. Give himself up? Out of the question. All that was left was to hope his shield would be enough to counter the curses the two wizards were hissing in his direction.

The weak shield managed to deflect one of the spells, but disintegrated under its force, and Snape had to avoid the second with an agile jump to the side. Grindelwald, it was infuriating to get old!

He tried to guess at the next onslaught, when his view was suddenly blocked by two figures opposite him. He jumped…what were they playing at?

"Dumbledore, back off, this is none of your affair!" Hopkins cried, burning with anger.

"On the contrary, it's my affair that this stop," the Headmaster said sternly. "You're in my school, Mister Hopkins, and you are not at all authorized to use force on one of my professors!"

"I was delegated by the Minister himself, and I'll do what he told me," the wizard retorted. "You two, get Snape; I'll continue the interrogation at the Ministry, there where he won't be a danger to anyone."

"So, it's an interrogation now?" Dumbledore said. "It seemed to me it was a simple interview. The Aurors came before you did, and left empty-handed; nothing authorizes you to act in this manner. You're overstepping your bounds, Counselor Hopkins!"

"Don't meddle in this," the wizard hissed, making a motion to his two guards, who strode with determination toward Snape.

"No!" Harry cried as he stepped between them. "He's staying with me!"

One of the wizards sneered, and without further ado, grabbed Harry by the arm. Or at least he tried to. He'd barely put his hand on his sleeve when a powerful green shield swelled from out of nowhere to protect Harry, repelling the wizard, who fell backward with a yelp.

Not wasting any time, Harry transformed into the cat and jumped to the shoulder of the stunned professor.

"Good foresight, I suppose, Mister Potter," Severus murmured. Dumbledore shot him a glance that was both resigned and satisfied, before raising his own wand. Terrified, the three wizards and the social worker watched as their wands escaped them to fly into the Headmaster's hand.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like us to discuss things more calmly and civilly," Dumbledore said. "This situation is becoming ridiculous and is creating more problems than it's resolving. It's clear that no one here is going to take neither Professor Snape nor Harry Potter anywhere they don't want to go. I'll remind you that this is an adoption proceeding, and not a trial. Might I ask you all to sit down?"

He made a quick gesture with his wand, and three armchairs appeared behind the Ministry agents, who found themselves roughly propelled into them.

"What _was _that, then? It was dark magic!" Hopkins cried out, the first to regain his senses.

"Much to the contrary," Dumbledore replied. "It was the purest magic there is—based on love and sacrifice."

"Sacrificial magic," one of the agents murmured, stunned.

The shield around Harry began to fade as it sensed the threat diminish.

"I see you learned your magical theory lessons well, Mister Duke," the Headmaster agreed.

"How? When?" Hopkins hissed, while Madam Saintclair edged closer to her colleagues.

"That's hardly important. Know only that thanks to this, Harry cannot be successfully attacked while in Professor Snape's presence. The sacrifice in place prevents anyone from doing the boy harm. Isn't this the best argument possible? Of course, I must remind you that any information you learn here will have to remain under the seal of your Unbreakable Vow."

Hopkins made a face, but finally nodded. He hardly had a choice…

"Even if it's true…"

"You know that it is," Dumbledore interrupted.

The wizard swept the protest aside with a gesture. "Even if it's true, that's not enough to justify the adoption. Things need to be examined in more detail. All of this isn't clear."

"That's enough," Severus hissed. "This farce has gone on long enough. Albus, have the reporters come in. If this question must be decided by people who've nothing to do with it, then let it be judged by everyone. The matter will be in the papers tomorrow anyway; I'd still prefer that what these rags print be based on real facts and not rumors."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm afraid you're right, even though I deplore it," he agreed. "I think they'll be only too happy to be able to observe this anyway. And perhaps that way we'll avoid certain extreme outbursts." Then, without waiting, he headed for the door.

"Wait a minute, that's not the way this should be done!" Hopkins protested.

"Is there a law against it?" the Headmaster asked innocently.

"Well, no, but…"

"In that case…" Opening the door, Dumbledore motioned toward the reporters who were watching him eagerly and curiously. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you'd like to join us?"

Needing no further urging, the half-dozen reporters rushed into the room, cameras and quills in hand, looking for Harry Potter, who hurriedly jumped to the ground and transformed before they arrived, vaguely nervous as he stayed close to Snape.

"I didn't know there were so many reporters," the boy murmured to Snape as the flashbulbs crackled.

"At least two of them are foreign," the professor replied. "And yet, I assume Dumbledore sent the most intrusive of them away before we arrived."

"Rita Skeeter is still here, though," Harry grumbled.

"I imagine there's a good reason for that," Snape said. "But take note of the short dark-haired man in glasses at the very back. You've certainly not seen the last of him. He's an expert at subtlety and camouflage, much more dangerous than Skeeter in his own way."

"Oh, that's because you don't know her tactics," Harry answered as he shook his head. It really wasn't the time or place to explain to Severus that the reporter was an Animagus. But Rita, on the other hand, knew that he knew, and with a bit of luck, that would be enough to keep her quiet. Even better, make her come down on the right side of things. From the other side of the room, the reporter shot him an engaging smile, and Harry relaxed slightly.

"Well, well, Harry, what a pleasure to see you again!" she cried out as she stepped toward him.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said as neutrally as he could. "About that, get your papers up to speed; my new name is Potter-Snape."

"Potter-Snape?" Rita hissed fervently to her quill. "How appropriate! The Boy Who Lived gains a second identity at the same time as a new family and a new life!"

"Stylistically, isn't that a bit redundant?" Snape asked sarcastically, his arms crossed.

"Ah, Professor, but isn't that the question of the day?" Skeeter asked as she shot him an alluring smile. "About that, have you changed your family name as well?"

Harry saw Snape almost choke beside him.

"Certainly not!" he cried. "The last thing I need now is James Potter coming from beyond the grave to gouge my eyes out. A change of Harry's name will be enough."

"That would be so storybook…" Rita sighed. "Are you sure that…"

"That's enough," Madam Saintclair intervened, getting her bearings. "This adoption is still not official, and the change of name even less so."

"Oh," the reporter said, turning to her. "And why is that?"

"It seems quite evident," Saintclair said dryly.

"Professor Snape truly used an illegal potion on Harry Potter, then?"

"Potter-Snape," Harry corrected.

"Well, no," the social worker admitted. 'No, that doesn't seem to be the case."

"Did he try to make him take the Mark and enter into the service of Voldemort? The Boy Who Lived to Sow Chaos?" she murmured with delight.

"No, there's no question of that!" Hopkins interrupted, panic-stricken.

"A kidnapping, then?" Skeeter asked.

"Ah well, er, no," Saintclair said. "But Professor Snape, well, you know…the Mark…"

"Pardon?" Skeeter said. "A Death Eater. He's a Death Eater, then? I thought he saved Potter from Voldemort's clutches! Merlin, I myself covered the story: 'A hero with a tragic past saves the Boy Who Lived from a tragic fate!' Don't tell me everything must be done over? The public hates retractions; it's very bad for sales, it makes everyone confused about the good guys and the bad guys. My word, you've no idea of the drama!"

"No, no, everything's fine, it's not that," Hopkins tried to calm her. "No potion, nor kidnapping, nor Death Eater. That's not the problem."

For a moment, there was silence in the room. Rita Skeeter turned to her colleagues, who exchanged knowing looks. Then, readjusting her glasses, she leant forward, staring the wizard in the eyes. "What are you playing at, Hopkins? You realize there are people waiting for a scoop here? You're going to give us one, and quickly, or the next headline in the _Prophet _will be on the subject of your relationship with Dolores Umbridge."

"What?" the wizard exclaimed, all of a sudden losing his color. "But I don't have any relationship with Umbridge! Nor with anyone! You can't do that!"

Holding her tongue, Skeeter just watched him, annoyed, tapping the tips of her long fingernails against her parchment.

"I believe I have what you need," Saintclair intervened, markedly alarmed. "We were about to begin the interviews with acquaintances anyway. You'll only have to sit, I don't know, behind a charmed wall. It doesn't matter, if Mister Potter and Professor Snape are in agreement."

"Very well," Snape conceded after a moment's hesitation. "But alert your victims they're being observed."

"Certainly not," Saintclair said, "that would be completely against the rules."

Snape let out a low groan, but didn't say anything more. Calm once again, the social worker nodded, her unpleasant smile back in place.

"In that case, Professor Dumbledore, could you bring in the first person?"

"Of course," the Headmaster replied. "Who?"

"Mister Ronald Weasley," she said with a predatory smile. "He's a student in this school, if I'm not mistaken. Set up a charmed partition so he can't see the rest of the room, and have him summoned, please."

Dumbledore seemed surprised by the request, but as for Harry, he paled visibly. His statements hadn't fallen on deaf ears. He'd really been stupid. All he could do was hope he could trust Ron.

At his side, he sensed Snape tense as well, understanding the maneuver. During this time, the Headmaster finished erecting an invisible partition to one side of them. Similar to a two-way mirror, it allowed the observers to see everything without being noticed.

Then, without a word, Dumbledore held out a parchment to Fawkes, who then flew away. The little group waited in the heavy silence, until three timid knocks sounded at the door a few minutes later.

"Come in, Mister Weasley," Madam Saintclair said with an engaging smile. "Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable."

It would appear that Ron was no more fooled by her manner than Harry had been, the latter noted. He sat carefully without looking away from her.

"Professor Dumbledore asked for me?" he said.

"Exactly, he'll be with you as soon as the interview is over," the social worker assured him. "The Headmaster is permitting me to use his office to ask you a few questions about your friend, Harry Potter. It seems you've known him for quite some time."

"Could I see your badge?" Ron asked, all of a sudden distrustful.

Holding back an annoyed expression, the witch handed him her official badge, which the boy returned to her reluctantly.

"Uh. Yeah, I've known Harry since we came to Hogwarts," he admitted at last.

"And I believe you could claim to be his best friend?" Madam Saintclair asked in a sugary voice.

But Ron shrugged, seeming on guard. "You'd have to ask him that, but I suppose so."

Harry smiled from behind the wall. Certain people accused Ron of being too naïve sometimes, but his friend's instincts were as good as his own. He'd sensed that Saintclair was shifty, and he was on his guard. When a familiar hand came to squeeze his shoulder, Harry looked up at Snape, smiling. It was going to go all right. He was sure of it.

"In that case," Saintclair continued, "you certainly know about the adoption process that was initiated."

"Oh, that…yeah, I know about it."

"And if I may ask, what do you think?" the social worker asked seriously, as if Ron's opinion were critical.

"What do you want me to think? I'm happy for Harry, of course. If that's what he wants."

"But is it really what he wants?" she asked as she lowered her voice. "Do you really find this normal? From what I've come to understand, Harry and Professor Snape had never been close before this summer."

At these words, Ron couldn't help but laugh. "No, that's for certain, and for sure it's a bit weird, but…" He shrugged. "People change. And sometimes, it's for the better."

So much wisdom coming from Ron left Harry slightly perplexed. He and Hermione had probably had a long discussion.

"Change? In a few weeks? Mister Weasley, let's be clear, when the school year finished, Mister Potter and Professor Snape hated each other, didn't they?"

"Hate, I don't know. Snape saved Harry a lot of times, after all. But they wouldn't have gone off on a weekend together, that's for certain."

"And now, Professor Snape wants to adopt him! Come now, Mister Weasley, don't tell me you find this rational!"

"And why not?" Ron retorted. "In normal times and with normal people, I'd probably tell you it was too fast. But Harry and Snape…I've seen them together, and frankly, the adoption will only make what's already there official."

At his words, Madam Saintclair fidgeted. "You've seen them, haven't you? You've understood, you as well? It's obvious you're an intelligent young man."

"Seen what?" Ron asked with a frown.

"Mister Potter and Professor Snape. It's clear their relationship isn't that of a father and his child," the witch said with self-assurance.

Behind the wall, Harry let out a groan and turned toward Dumbledore. "She has no right to say that! It's totally untrue!"

Beside them, the reporters were literally drinking in their words, quills in action.

"She's trying to trap him, Harry," Dumbledore explained. "Making false statements in order to know the truth. Don't worry. Mister Weasley's got along very well so far."

The arm that Snape had put around Harry's shoulders had stiffened, but he didn't pull it away, though, despite the suspicious looks from the reporters. Harry was grateful to him for that. As for Ron, he'd taken it quite differently. Shooting the witch a stunned look, he burst into laughter.

"You think they're going out with each other, is that it? Oh Merlin," he said with a chuckle.

"Is the idea really that stupid, Mister Weasley?" Madam Saintclair asked softly. "It seems to me it also crossed your mind, not so long ago."

Ron scowled, but then shook his head with a smile. "That's true. I don't know what came over me that day…everything was so weird. I couldn't believe Harry would really want to live with Snape, all of that. I thought maybe the professor was trying to get Harry into his bed. Well, I don't know if I thought it, but I said it. I have to admit I'm rather good at it, when it comes to stupidity."

"And why stupid, Mister Weasley? I can completely see the reasoning of your logic myself," the social worker assured him.

"Oh yeah? You're the only one," Ron sniggered. "Honestly, if Snape were attracted to teenagers, male or female, I doubt he'd spend his time screaming at us and decimating our self-esteem. As a technique for hitting on people, I've seen better, eh? As for Harry…it's rather funny, in fact."

"Funny?" Saintclair asked. "Really. How so?"

"I don't know if you know Snape well, but he's the last person I would've imagined, playing mother-hen. Uh, okay, don't ever tell him I said that, eh? I'm attached to life."

Behind the walls, Severus rolled his eyes.

"This interview is entirely confidential, I can assure you," the social worker lied, making Harry grind his teeth.

"Good. Well, it's just he has this way of looking at Harry, exactly like my mother when she looks at us. Like we're the most irritating boys but also the most adorable in the world. Something sort of like that. And he spends his time making these remarks to him…yeah, like my mother, actually. Rather odd, isn't it? So, you don't know my mother, but if you did, you'd find that funny, really," Ron said, letting out a laugh.

"And the way he puts his arm around Harry's shoulder. That's like my father. Oh, the best yet is when Harry's in his cat form…he spends his time on Snape's shoulders or in his arms, and Snape seems as proud as Merlin on a tournament day! I mean, Snape with a cat on his shoulder, isn't that hilarious? And bloody hell, I wouldn't want to be the first in line to try and hurt Harry now. Face Snape's anger, no thanks, I still prefer You Know Who."

"Come, don't talk nonsense," Saintclair said testily. "You still can't want your best friend to be adopted by this individual!"

"Huh?" Ron said, frowning. "I thought you'd be the last ones to see a problem with it. A professor, an Order member who's in the know and scares everyone, even the Slytherins. I don't see what more you could want."

"But it's not natural!" the witch exclaimed. "You yourself have been very clear on the subject: a former Death Eater can't adopt the Boy Who Lived."

"Wow, I don't know where you got that, but you've got to get your files up to date; the latest news is that Snape saved Harry from Death Eaters, not the opposite. And seeing how he almost lost his own skin, I really doubt it was purely out of duty. I mean, this bloke knows what he has to do, but for this sort of number, he'd really have to have a reason…"

"Yes, a bad reason!" Saintclair added. "An unhealthy interest!"

"Listen," Ron said as he straightened, clearly irritated, "think what you like, but if you treat your husband like Snape treats Harry…well, I wouldn't want to be in his place; that's all, and you're the one who has a problem. Snape's attached to Harry, yeah, but not how you think. Merlin, for all I know, Harry's after my sister, and Snape…sorry, but that bloke's asexual, full stop. Let it drop."

"You're not going to tell me that this attachment, after so little time, is normal!" the social worker insisted. "Something is definitely going on."

"If you want my opinion, Snape just needed a cat," Ron said calmly. "Even an old bat like him needs something to protect and love. Anyway, that's what my mother thinks. And take it from me, she knows this stuff."

"I see," Madam Saintclair said dryly, arranging her papers. "So, you're in favor of this adoption?"

"Of course," Ron answered. "What's more, Snape's started to give Gryffindor points, so…"

"Very well. Thank you," the witch said as she gestured toward the door.

Ron stood with a shrug. "You're welcome."

Then, without a backward glance, he left, leaving the social worker clearly frustrated.

Behind the wall, Harry let out a sigh of relief. Ron had been perfect. He looked up at Severus who, behind his impenetrable façade, seemed impressed all the same. Harry smiled; maybe it'd be possible to reconcile these two sides of his life after all.

Beside them, the reporters were whispering enthusiastically, trading their impressions in soft voices, scribbling furiously on their parchments. A few moments later, the door opened again, admitting a tall and dignified figure.

McGonagall stepped forward, chin held high, eyeing the social worker sternly. Saintclair graced her with her best smile and pointed to the chair. "Professor McGonagall, please, take a seat."

The Head of Gryffindor nodded and sat down. "Well, might I ask where we are, concerning this adoption? The morning is beginning to drag out."

"Actually, the situation is complicated," Saintclair admitted. "You understand we can't make a decision off the top of our heads, even for Mister Potter…"

"I understand it's Mister Potter-Snape now," McGonagall corrected, making Harry smile and the witch grimace.

"Yes, well, that's a point yet to be decided," Saintclair said evasively and quickly. "For now, the question of Mister Potter's best interests and well-being are our principal concerns."

"In that case, I hardly see what's keeping you from signing the papers," McGonagall said, surprised.

"Oh, come now, Professor, no little games between us," the social worker simpered. "We both know very well what our concerns are in this matter."

"I assume that has to do with Professor Snape," the Head of Gryffindor said dryly.

"In a general context, yes," Saintclair agreed. "It's obvious he's not the best person in a position to take charge of the boy. Let's be honest; he absolutely doesn't seem right for it. I think you'd be the first to say it."

"Give me one good reason why I should disparage my colleague?"

"Come, Professor, his public notoriety is such that you'd hardly respect Severus Snape."

"Ah well, public notoriety has gone entirely astray. On the contrary, I highly respect Professor Sna;pe, and that for some time now. Your presumptions are somewhat insulting, and I'd be willing to monitor your proposals," McGonagall said in her most professorial tone.

Madam Saintclair grimaced slightly, as if she'd just bit into a sour lemon. "I'm happy to hear that," she lied. "But if we could stick to the facts? It appears you had Professor Snape as a student, while he was here at Hogwarts."

"That's correct."

"And according to the reports, he earned numerous detentions from you. Your remarks in these reports were at the least less than flattering…I quote: aggressive, troublemaker, disagreeable, haughty…and that's just a quick summary."

"Children change," McGonagall said, sweeping the argument aside with a hand. "On the other hand, I must confess that at the time, I was the slightest bit…biased against Severus."

"Biased?" Saintclair prodded.

"It so happened there was a little group of students in Gyffindor House who called themselves the Marauders. Unfortunately, they were often at odds with Mister Snape. Alas, I must say that, yes, it seemed to me then that the students of my house were in the right most of the time. I've now revised that opinion. It was a time in which I made, it seems, numerous errors in judgment, of which the consequences were tragic."

"Professor, enlighten me," the social worker said softly, "this group—the Marauders— it included, among others, James Potter, Harry's father?"

"That's correct," McGonagall admitted.

"It's also correct to say that Severus Snape professed a fierce hatred for James Potter and his friends, isn't that so?"

"It was a school rivalry, nothing more," Minerva agreed. "It no longer has any bearing on the current situation."

"It has a great deal, on the contrary. How could you for a moment consider entrusting this boy to his father's sworn enemy?"

"Outside of these school rivalries, Severus was a very close friend of Lily Evans, Harry's mother," McGonagall explained coldly. "The animosity that might've existed between James and Severus is not at all pertinent today."

"It was, though, just several months ago," Saintclair insisted. "Many people heard Professor Snape clearly state what he thought of Mister Potter and his ancestry, of the fact that he looked like his father, in very unflattering terms. Do you deny this?"

"No," McGonagall sighed. "Since Harry's arrival, the relationship between himself and Professor Snape was far from ideal. They got off to a bad start, and it was difficult afterwards—with added prejudices—to rectify matters. But that is of no importance any longer. Actually, Severus even introduced Harry to his Slytherins and clearly ordered them to protect him, at the risk of suffering his anger. That's not something his students take lightly."

"I see," the social worker said slowly. "And what, in your opinion, could've motivated this change in behavior?"

McGonagall shrugged. "Severus simply needed a new perspective to recognize the evidence. He and Harry, in fact, have much in common, and much to offer each other. I can't tell you how happy and relieved I am over this reconciliation."

"Strangely, I find that hard to believe," Saintclair murmured. "Your favorite Gyffindor, in the hands of the Head of Slytherin? I have trouble seeing why that would make you happy. Professor, let's speak candidly. Why not ask for Mister Potter's guardianship yourself? The Ministry would be more than happy to entertain your request."

"Why not?" Minerva repeated. "Because Harry didn't choose me. And because I failed miserably in my role as Head of House by leaving this boy unprotected during the summers, without an adult to guide him the rest of the year. I've always respected that Mister Potter was fond of his mother and father... Carefree, sure of himself, brave. I made the same mistake as Severus, actually. Deep inside, Harry is a fragile child who desperately needed a parent, someone to pledge their affection, which would be as deep as it was solely his own. Someone to watch over him fiercely and learn to see him as he is, both good and bad qualities. Professor Snape knew to do that, and we're all grateful to him for it. He is, as a matter of fact, the father of Harry's heart, and I'm certain that James Potter would be entirely in agreement with me on that point…and no less grateful."

"Permit me to doubt it," Saintclair said bitterly. "For pity's sake, he's an ex-Death Eater!"

"I don't understand what you're talking about," McGonagall replied, lifting her chin. "Severus Snape is a courageous and principled wizard, and he only deserves respect."

"I see," the social worker sighed. "You see him that way."

"That way, and no other."

"Very well. Thank you for your help," Madam Saintclair said with a sour smile. "You may go."

Minerva nodded curtly before taking her leave.

Sheltered from the eyes of the others present, Snape attempted to hide his complete bewilderment. McGonagall. McGonagall had just admitted to her wrongs and spoken of his as if he were someone…brave and principled? Merlin, Albus must've begged her to produce such a result. But the witch had been brimming with sincerity, he had to admit. The world had strangely been turned on end recently.

Reality struck him full in the face, though, when the next witness entered the office. Lupin's slender, stooped figure, circles under his eyes, seeming hunted and worried—everything about him evoked mistrust in Snape.

He took his place in the chair under the social worker's satisfied eyes. Obviously, the witch was determined to have her victory.

"Mister Remus Lupin?" Saintclair asked.

"That's right," Remus said in a weak voice.

Not so weak that he couldn't be heard, however. Scarcely had he spoken when a fracas broke out just above their heads, followed by a long howl.

Remus closed his eyes as the social worker hastily looked for the source of the sound. Harry understood immediately. Loki, locked up in the top of the tower, had just heard his father's voice, and was making himself known. Something told Harry that the night had been a long one for Remus and his son.

"What was that?" the social worker asked nervously.

"I don't know," the werewolf lied. "It's Hogwarts, that sort of think happens frequently."

"I don't recall that," Saintclair said dryly. "Professor Dumbledore?"

The wizard came in quickly, calmly stroking his beard. "How might I help you?" he asked amiably.

"Did you hear that howl?"

"Oh, that? Yes, it's a somewhat rebellious Boggart living at the top of the tower. It's probably sensed the fears of someone close by. A werewolf, from the sounds of it."

Saintclair shuddered, but nodded. "It's well-secured, I take it?"

"You're in no danger, that is certain," Dumbledore assured her.

"Very well, thank you. I'll continue with the interview."

With a slight deference, the Headmaster slipped out, leaving an especially nervous Remus and the social worker alone together. Above them, the howling had died down to a low growling.

"Well, Mister Lupin, we won't let ourselves be intimidated, then!" she said jovially. "Allow me to introduce myself; I'm Amanda Saintclair, the social worker representing the Ministry, and charged with the inquiry into Mister Potter's adoption by Professor Snape."

Remus nodded. "Yes, indeed, I head the news came out this morning."

"Let's not go too quickly with our task; nothing has been decided yet," Saintclair said. "It's precisely for this reason I wanted to meet you. I believe you were a close friend of James Potter?"

"Indeed," Remus said tensely.

"And from what I've understood, yours and James Potter's relationships with Severus Snape were less than ideal."

"In a certain manner, we were rivals, coming from different houses, basically."

"But it went beyond that, didn't it? There was a personal hatred."

"Hatred is too strong of a word," Remus protested. "Besides, that hostility didn't last beyond Hogwarts. James and Severus worked for the Order of the Phoenix together."

Behind the wall, Severus blinked in surprise. It was a completely shameless lie. He and James had avoided each other like the plague, and Albus had taken great care not to ever assign them to a common mission. For as much as he knew, James had thought him to be in the pay of Voldemort up until his death.

"Really?" the witch asked, clearly skeptical. "Would you go so far as to say that James Potter would've approved the notion of Severus Snape adopting his son?"

Perhaps Lupin knew how to lie, but this lie was beyond his repertoire. Which reinforced Severus' idea that a career as a spy was far from being an option for him.

"No," Remus admitted reluctantly, "at that time, probably not. But now, after all that's happened, all that Severus has done for Harry… I'm certain he'd be grateful to him."

"That's the word of the day," Saintclair grumbled. "Mister Lupin, have you gone over your statement with Professors Dumbledore or McGonagall?"

"Pardon? No, no, not at all. I was only alerted the moment I was summoned."

Once again, a furious howl bellowed, making everyone present jump. The reporters shifted in their seats, clearly worried, and Remus took a deep breath. "Listen, Madam…Saintclair?" he went on. "Whatever the rivalry between James and Severus, the circumstances at the time, all the other questions you might ask yourself on this matter—to your credit—I can assure you Harry will be perfectly happy with Professor Snape. He's managed to do more for him in a few months than any other of us have, including making decisions that were necessary, like this one. You need not have any worries about this."

"Speaking of decisions," the social worker countered, "might I ask why you yourself haven't tried to obtain the boy's guardianship?"

"Because the Ministry would've never entrusted him to me. Werewolves are not permitted to adopt," he said, his jaw clenched. The howling seemed to morph into a burst of laughter, making the group shiver.

"There can, however, be extenuating circumstances, and this might well be one," Madam Saintclair replied gently. "Why don't you make a request? I could push it through. Harry would certainly be very happy with you."

"Is he the one who asked for this?" Remus asked, surprised.

"Well, let's say the boy isn't seeing things very clearly at the moment, and it might be necessary to open his eyes. Someone like you, assisted by Ministry representatives, could make a perfect guardian."

"I don't understand; I thought I was here about the adoption request made by Severus?" Remus said, frowning.

"It might not be approved," Saintclair explained. "We must consider every solution."

But the werewolf shook his head. "No, there's no other good solution. Severus will be perfect for Harry. He'll protect him from…everything. As for me, I couldn't take charge of Harry anyway."

"Since I'm telling you I'd approve you…"

"No, you misunderstand. I wouldn't make a good father. Just about anyone else would be more competent than I, even Sev…anyone else," Remus finished.

Once again, a howl ferocious enough to curdle one's blood rang out.

"In that case, who would you like to see adopt Harry? The Weasley family, perhaps?" Saintclair asked, obviously annoyed.

"I really don't understand the point of this interview," Remus confessed. "Severus is filling that role very well. I'm completely happy to see him adopt Harry."

"Would you be ready to repeat that under Veritaserum?" the social worker asked. "I'm starting to believe that will be necessary. Obviously, orders have been given…"

"You're mistaken," the werewolf said as he shook his head. "I'll confess to having had doubts at the beginning of this relationship; I even tried to convince Harry to stay away from Professor Snape, but that was wrong on my part. I was too blinded by my own problems…and mistakes to see the reality of it. I'd be the first to watch that all was going well, but I'm already convinced it's the best thing that could happen. And Severus will do his best; contrary to what you seem to believe, he doesn't have any bad intentions…"

It was at that moment that the door was thrown open, admitting Counselor Hopkins, followed by Lucius Malfoy at a leisurely pace.

"No bad intentions, eh?" Hopkins sneered. "And yet we have proof to the contrary," he said, waving a parchment.

"What is that?" Saintclair asked, reaching out to take it.

"This is a letter my son received from Professor Snape," Lucius answered with a courteous smile. "A letter in which he confides his intentions to secure Harry Potter's guardianship, the better to be able to manipulate him. And believe me, his intentions are anything but innocent."

Slowly but surely, Madam Saintclair's smile reappeared.

* * *

Happy New Year everyone! Here is a new chapter to start the year, thanks to Raewhit who is quickly catching with the French text: 5 more chapters and that will be it ( not the end of the story, though, tp which I am still trying to come) ! Which means I have to write faster, I guess ;-)

A lot of thanks to the wonderful reviewers who support this story ! The French version is competiting this month for an award in the 'Severus Snape' category; trust me, we will get it even if I have to hack the bloody poll! Mmm... my slytherin side talking ;-)

By the way, I recently came accross some REALLY, REALLY good story with Harry and Snape as friends/campanions, published at Potions & Snitches too and called HP and the ennemy within. There is a sequel, and the story is totally amazing... I mean, there is a plot, guys, and not a small one, it's really good! I don't often advertize for fanfics, but this one truly deserved it!

Anyway, my best wishes to all of you for this year, may it be full of fanfictions, love, good times and happiness! And Snapes, of course ;-)


	45. Chapter 45 : The Day of Truth: Part Thre

Chapter Forty-five: The Day of Truth: Part Three

"A…a letter?" Remus stammered.

"Absolutely," Lucius confirmed. "A letter that Severus Snape sent to my son, Draco, in response to his concerns after Mister Potter returned. A most explicit letter…"

Hopkins triumphantly held the letter out to his colleague. From behind the invisible wall, the press was in turmoil, trying their best to see what was written on it.

"What is Lucius up to now?" Snape growled, arms crossed over his chest. "I can't believe he'd try to use such a stupid ploy."

Harry remained silent. A letter? To Draco? He knew Malfoy had sent a note to Snape. How had he managed to trap him this way? Beside him, he sensed Snape becoming agitated.

"Harry? I assure you this is an underhanded trick. I never sent Draco a letter, at least not last summer," he said, his black eyes worried.

"Oh, yeah, I know," Harry reassured him. "I was just wondering… Do you think Draco's decided to defect to his father's side after all? That he's making this all up to get back in his good graces?"

"I've no idea, but I think we're about to find out."

Indeed, the door had just opened again, admitting Dumbledore, who'd up until that point stayed to the side.

"Mister Malfoy, Madam Saintclair, might I suggest we continue this conversation in my office? We'll be more comfortable there," he offered.

The reporters protested lowly from the side, and Harry understood what Dumbledore was trying to do with this tactic. A bit more privacy. He certainly had no objections just then. Rita Skeeter already had enough subject material to write scandalous articles, without the Malfoys entering into the mix to add their own fabrications.

Lucius and Madam Saintclair reluctantly agreed and headed for the office, leaving the Headmaster behind. As soon as the door was shut, he quickly canceled the spell allowing the spectators to remain hidden, and motioned for Severus and Harry to follow him. Remus, Harry noticed, took advantage of the diversion to discreetly disappear toward the upper storey.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd ask you to be patient for a few minutes. Breakfast will be served for you here in the library presently," he announced to the reporters who grumbled, but didn't dare to protest, though.

Leaving them behind, the three of them walked to the office.

Tonks had already arrived, Harry saw, and was flanked by two Aurors who seemed less hostile that the ones before. That wasn't enough to make him feel better, though.

"Might I know what this is about?" Snape asked coldly.

"It's about Harry Potter here, and the letter you sent to Draco," Lucius said, as serious as could be. "Even though I understand your motivations, it's clear that despite our old friendship, I cannot in any way allow you to put this boy in danger. After all, we all wish him well."

His saccharine smile triggered a new wave of hatred in Harry. Before his magic could get out of control, though, a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"The last letter I wrote to Draco was at Christmas," Snape retorted. "I don't see how that could be pertinent to or concern Harry."

"Perhaps you're forgetting this missive you wrote recently in reply to Draco's message asking you for an explanation about Mister Potter's presence at your side," Lucius said amiably.

"Actually, I remember Draco's letter well," Snape answered. "But its contents were rather…direct, and it certainly didn't address explanations concerning Harry."

Lucius' smile faded slightly as his eyes hardened. Obviously, Harry realized, he didn't know…. That was interesting.

"On the other hand," Severus continued, "I didn't reply to that letter with another. I talked with Draco instead; he seemed to understand my motivations perfectly."

Lucius' eyes became even colder. "I was able to speak with my son briefly this morning, and it appears there's been a huge misunderstanding about him," he said. "But that's a different problem."

"Most definitely," Madam Saintclair interrupted suavely. "The problem facing us is much more worrisome. Professor Snape, do you recall having written this letter?" she asked as she showed him the parchment.

Raising an eyebrow, Snape drew nearer to read, before letting out a snort of disgust. "What creativity," he said sarcastically as he turned his eyes toward Lucius. "According to this, I was trying to adopt Harry to make a new Dark Lord of him and rule the Wizarding world? And all that since Hogwarts? Merlin, I didn't know I was quite so ambitious or manipulative; I'm almost flattered."

"There's really nothing laughable about it, Professor," Hopkins said dryly. "Do you recall writing this letter or not?"

"Of course not," Snape replied scornfully. "I don't know who wrote it, but given the identity of who brought it, I think I have a vague idea. But I didn't send any letters to Draco Malfoy, much less this one. It's perfectly ridiculous."

"The handwriting is nevertheless yours," Saintclair said.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Have you ever heard of enchanted quills? Lucius Malfoy possesses numerous samples of my handwriting and all the means to copy it. It's as childish as it is ridiculous."

Lucius laughed softly. "That's not what I think. This parchment bears your fingerprints."

Once again, Snape let out a small sigh of frustration. "Oh really? I'd be curious to know which student you recruited to rummage through my desk and steal a parchment. And what else while they were at it—my ink as well? That's likely."

"Starting to amount to a considerable burden of proof, Professor Snape," Hopkins said, his tone hard.

"That's my opinion as well, and having been a childhood friend of Severus, unfortunately, I confess with regret that I'm hardly surprised. This denunciation costs me, Severus, believe me, but a good citizen must do his duty."

"A good citizen," Harry murmured behind him. Dumbledore's presence at his side had up until now restrained him, but this last cutting remark was too much. "You certainly were a good citizen when you had me tortured in your dungeons. In your house. When you made me believe….you bloody…"

"Mister Potter, I indeed owe you my apologies," Lucius agreed, bowing slightly, a perfect picture of contrition. "At that time, I was the tragic victim of an Imperius, and despite myself, I had to participate in all those horrors inflicted upon you. I've tried to contact you since that time to make you aware of my deep regret, but you were, it appears, well-hidden," he finished with a piercing look for Snape.

"You're nothing but a dirty bastard," Harry hissed between his teeth. "I won't let you do this. Never. You're not getting away with this."

"I understand all of this must be difficult for you, and I apologize for my intrusion today," Malfoy went on. "You'll understand, however, in due time, that I've acted as I have for your own good."

"Go burn in hell," Harry replied. "The sooner the better. And do me a favor—don't forget to take Draco with you."

Lucius' eyes blazed, and for a moment, Harry thought the man was going to strike him. But the wizard quickly got hold of himself, and Harry jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, perhaps it'd be best if you left," Dumbledore said beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Severus nod.

"No," the boy said, his teeth clenched. "I'm staying until this is all sorted out."

"Well, actually, I think in light of these new developments, it'd be best to go on with the Ministry inquiry," Hopkins announced. "An appraisal will be done…"

"An appraisal won't distinguish between Professor Snape's handwriting and a well-done counterfeit, and you know it," Dumbledore intervened. "This is not proof of anything. Not to be discourteous, Mister Malfoy, but given the recent events in which you and your son have been implicated, this cannot bear significantly on the case. Your credibility has been greatly compromised by your allegiances."

Lucius Malfoy smiled slightly, then turned toward the Ministry representatives. "Ah well, that's a matter that arouses strong passions. But are you really prepared to take the risk?"

Hopkins seemed to hesitate, but Saintclair, on the other hand, went on the offensive.

"Certainly not. Let the Aurors do their jobs!"

All eyes swiveled to the Aurors, who hadn't budged but were watching the scene doubtfully.

"Very well," Tonks said at last. "The accusation is rather serious, even if it's obvious it won't hold up. I see only one solution to deal with it quickly, Professor."

With a fluid motion, she pulled a small phial from her pocket and lifted it to eye-level.

"Out of the question," Snape said at once.

"It's only Veritaserum," Tonks pointed out.

"I know that very well, Miss Tonks, and I repeat, out of the question."

"Well, then," Saintclair sneered, "it appears this is the second time you've flat-out refused to take this potion, Professor. Would you have something to hide?"

Snape shot her a scornful look but didn't answer.

"Be reasonable," Tonks said as she shook the phial. "I'll ask the questions myself. It'll only take a minute."

"You do realize your behavior is more than suspicious?" Hopkins sneered, reflexively rubbing his hands together.

"No, I will not take Veritaserum," Severus said firmly. "But there is, however, a way to sort out this question and the other one at the same time. Since Draco Malfoy is supposed to have received this letter, it would be wise to ask him some questions about his intentions concerning Mister Potter. I'll confess to having been surprised to see Draco return to Hogwarts this year, Lucius, instead of attending Durmstrang like the rest of his little friends."

Lucius' face froze, but he managed to remain impassive. "Leave Draco out of all this. He only did his duty by giving me the letter."

"In that case, why not take the potion yourself?" Severus suggested.

Harry saw Malfoy tense a bit more, which didn't keep him from directing a cold smile at the Potions master. "It seems there's only one person accused here, and that's you, Severus," Lucius replied.

"Exactly so," Snape said. "I deny these accusations which are based on nothing. You have no solid proof, and the Malfoy family reputation behind it. It's up to the accuser to present proof of his truthfulness, and not the accused."

"That's correct," Tonks said approvingly, struggling not to smile openly. "Mister Malfoy, a swallow, please?"

"This is ridiculous," Mafoy began, his composure starting to crumble. Clearly he'd not foreseen this turn of events.

"No, no, Professor Snape is right," Tonks insisted. "Given that Severus has saved Harry several times this summer, and that you're accused of having kidnapped and tortured him, I don't see why it'd be up to him to justify himself."

With a determined gesture, she held out the phial to him. Lucius glanced at it with deep disgust, before pulling himself together again. "I refuse to submit to this. It's perfectly absurd. I don't have to prove myself for having done my duty."

"Have Draco brought up," Snape interrupted.

"Out of the question. My son is not of age, and I won't allow him to be subjected to that potion!" Lucius protested strongly.

"It'll be you or him, Malfoy. Decide," Tonks said. "Anyway, bring the boy up; I want to hear what he has to say."

Dumbledore nodded gravely, and left the office for a few moments before returning. "Draco will be here momentarily," he announced. "I must say he's not been particularly cooperative up until now. His attitude—which merited placing him in isolation—has been the source of much trouble in the school recently."

"I'm aware of it," Lucius agreed, "and rest assured I'll speak to him about it. Draco and I will be having a serious discussion."

Dumbledore nodded soberly, then they all waited in silence for Draco to arrive. He wasn't long in coming, accompanied by Professor Flitwick, who studied the group with piercing eyes.

"Father," the boy stammered when he saw Lucius, "you asked for me?"

"Correct," Malfoy Senior replied. "These people have a few questions to ask you about the letter you received from Professor Snape."

Draco's eyes quickly became evasive, and he shuffled his feet as if he would've liked nothing more than to take off at a run. All eyes were on him, but only Madam Saintclair smiled as she drew closer to him.

"My boy, I assure you you're safe here and you're in no danger of reprisals," she said with a sharp look for Snape and Harry. "We only want to hear the truth, after which you'll be free to go back to your activities."

Draco glanced nervously at his father and Snape, before lowering his eyes again as he nodded.

"So," Saintclair said, "you received a letter from Professor Snape?"

"Yes," Draco replied, so softly that it was only a murmur.

"When was that?"

"A week ago. Just after the start of term."

"Was it this letter?" the social worker asked, handing him the parchment. Draco inspected it briefly before nodding, his lips pressed together.

"Are you certain that it was indeed Professor Snape who sent it?"

"Yes, he gave it to me himself."

Harry's indignant groan escaped no one's notice, but Draco was careful not to turn towards him or Snape. Paler than ever, he seemed to be trying not to be sick.

"Very well," Saintclair encouraged him. "And do you think the contents of this letter are genuine? That Professor Snape had bad intentions towards Mister Potter?"

Draco nodded his head almost imperceptibly.

"Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore intervened, "are you fully aware that you're making a statement before agents of the Ministry?"

Draco swallowed hard before nodding once again. Tonks, who'd stood off to the side until now, stepped toward her cousin with a frown. "Well," she said, "the situation is at an impasse. The only solution left is Veritaserum, Draco. Sit down; that would be best."

"Absolutely not," Lucius interrupted. "My son's made his statement; he's not to be subjected to further questioning. That's for Snape to do."

"You were warned, Malfoy," Tonks retorted. "It's up to the accuser to prove his charge. It'll be you or your son, one of the two."

"Definitely not. I'm going to call my solicitor, and we'll discuss this in court. This situation is absolutely scandalous; you're hardly encouraging citizens to do their duty!"

"If your story is true, I see no reason to refuse," the Auror replied as she shook the phial.

"You're overstepping your authority," Lucius growled. "This partiality is shameless. I'm returning to the Manor and I'm taking Draco with me. Expect to hear from me!"

"As you like," Tonks said. "But Draco still hasn't answered."

"He has nothing to answer. He's not of age, he's going home with me."

"Within the framework of inquiries of this type, minors over age fifteen can decide for themselves," Tonks said dryly, before turning to her cousin. "You have a choice," she told him, "you can refuse and leave with your father, or drink this potion and put an end to the lying."

The teenager looked up at her blankly.

"If you decide to take it," she went on calmly, "you'll have no fear of reprisals from your family. You'll remain here under the Ministry's protection. That proof of good faith will be very well taken."

"You're trying to influence him!" Lucius exclaimed. "Draco, let's be done with this, I don't have all day."

The moment seemed to stretch out for an eternity, Draco's gray, expressionless eyes drifting slowly from his father to Snape. Everyone kept silent, waiting for the boy's decision, almost holding their breath at the gravity of the moment.

Finally, Draco seemed to fold in on himself, and closed his eyes. Then, defeated, he turned towards Tonks and nodded.

Beside him, Lucius let out a furious growl and lifted a hand to either strike or grab him—no one ever knew which. The Aurors with Tonks seized him before he could go any further, and then surrounded him, out of reach of Draco.

"Unworthy son!" he cried. "After all we've done for you! How dare you defy your father? Do this, and you'll be outcast from your family!"

Eyes wide, Draco had no reaction as he looked at his father. But Tonks didn't give him time to change his mind, and pushed him into a chair, where the boy literally fell.

"You've made the right choice, Draco," she murmured as she handed him the phial. "One sip will be enough."

The teenager swallowed hard twice before finally deciding to unstopper the potion with a shaky hand. He narrowly missed spilling it as he brought it to his mouth, but all the same, he managed to swallow the required sip, then his hand fell limply to his lap.

Satisfied, Tonks caught the phial in midair, and sat to face the boy, whose empty eyes clearly indicated that the potion was taking effect.

"So," she began, "is you name Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," he replied.

"What are you parents' first names?"

"Lucius and Narcissa."

"Did you recently receive a letter from Professor Snape?" Tonks asked at last.

"No, not since last Christmas," Draco answered, provoking a current of murmurs.

"So you lied when you claimed to have received one last week?"

"Yes, that was my father's idea," the boy confessed.

Snape let out a small scornful snort, while the Aurors tightened their grip on Lucius.

"And what was your father intending to do with this strategy?"

"He wanted to make the adoption fail. Someone at the Ministry alerted him when the papers arrived. Snape wasn't to adopt Potter, whatever the cost."

"I see," Tonks murmured. "And you, you agreed to play the game?"

"I didn't have much choice," Draco replied. "Father arrived this morning, asked to speak to me, and told me it was my last chance to have a real standing with the Dark Lord, after the attack with Loki failed."

"That's what you want, Draco? To become a Death Eater?" Tonks asked sternly.

"I already am one, I have the Mark," the boy answered. "But I don't know. I'm not sure. I panicked. It's not what I thought. I just want everything to be what it was like before…my parents, the Manor, the power and money…"

"Charming," one of the Aurors behind Tonks murmured. "Wonderful parenting, Mister Malfoy."

"Do you wish Harry harm?" Tonks asked without breaking off.

"Not really. Not like him…not like that…"

"Would you protect him if it were necessary?"

"If it were necessary for my safety, yes," Draco answered.

"Why accuse Professor Snape?" Tonks continued without stopping. "Do you have something against him?"

"He betrayed our side. He's more concerned with Potter than with us. With me. That's not fair. He's seems so happy with all that, and I don't like it."

"Jealous, Draco?"

"Yes. Potter always gets everything. He can't have Snape too. Snape is ours. Mine," Draco said, sounding like a sulky little boy.

Arms still crossed, Severus rolled his eyes. Belonging to a Malfoy…Merlin preserve him! But the Veritaserum wasn't going to last much longer, and he signaled for Tonks to hurry.

"Do you think Professor Snape has bad intentions, whatever they might be, toward Harry Potter?" she asked.

"No," Draco said. "He's just a traitor to our side."

"Do you think he'd be a good father for Harry?"

"Probably."

Draco's eyes became less blurry, and he blinked twice, focusing on Tonks' smiling face before turning resigned eyes to his father.

Lucius didn't say a thing, but the icy look he gave his son spoke more than any words could.

"Very well, I believe we have all we need," Tonks said. "Take Lucius Malfoy to the Ministry for questioning. Watch him closely. No chance that he get away this time."

"You'll be hearing from me," Lucius growled. "Your methods are entirely illegal!"

"We'll see about that," Tonks replied with slight smile. "For now, Draco's staying here, and I'd like a team sent out to pay Narcissa a visit. Keep an eye on Malfoy Manor."

The Aurors nodded, before dragging a furious Lucius to the Floo, where they then disappeared.

Relief flooded through Harry, who automatically moved closer to Snape. This time, Malfoy hadn't had the last word…and nothing stood against the adoption anymore. At least he hoped not…

"Well, well," Hopkins coughed slightly, "that didn't go all that badly."

"Didn't go badly?" Snape grumbled. "What must I deduce from that—that you're satisfied with how things turned out, and you're offering me your apologies?"

"Let's not dwell on this little incident," Saintclair said in a rush. "It seems to me that—"

But a sudden explosion interrupted her, making everyone present jump, quickly followed by the sound of a heavy fall and sharp cries.

"It's up above!" Saintclair shouted. "That's not just a Boggart; there're several people up there!"

The noise continued, clearly the sounds of a furious struggle above their heads; Snape and Dumbledore exchanged a quick look.

"I'll go see what's happening," Snape offered, quickly held back by Hopkins.

"Not a chance," the wizard said, "you're not leaving here. I'll go."

"Unnecessary, completely unnecessary," Dumbledore stalled him in a calm voice. "It seems it's already over."

But a long howl contradicted him, followed by other muffled sounds that echoed in the circular office.

"I'll take care of it," Flitwick grumbled. "I think I know what it is."

"And what is it, if you please?" Saintclair yelped, clearly not reassured. "Tell us what we're about to face."

"You won't have to face anything, but I think you'll soon have your answer," the little man replied.

"Filius, be careful," Dumbledore said as he let the professor go off. Flitwick swept his advice aside with a casual wave of his wand, then trotted away. It took only a few moments until the sounds of struggle on the storey above were interrupted by a cry of rage, then a heavy silence ensued. A few minutes later, Professor Flitwick reappeared, seeming satisfied, followed by a disheveled and defeated-looking Remus.

Tonks, who hadn't said a word, watched him enter, her jaw clenched and her eyes flaming. Lupin, on the other hand, carefully avoided her eyes.

"My apologies," he said as he entered the room, "I'm afraid one of my class creatures is having adjustment problems."

"Creatures? What sort of creatures, please?" the social worker asked as she rearranged her robes.

"Madam Saintclair, is that really important?" Dumbledore interrupted courteously. "The morning's growing old, and I think we'd all appreciate finishing this little interview. Professor Lupin is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and his teaching methods, as well as his choice of programme, will probably not be of great interest to these proceedings."

"I suppose," Saintclair said dryly. "Well, in light of recent events, I hardly know what to think of this adoption."

"It appears we've established that Lucius Malfoy's accusation won't hold up," Tonks pointed out.

"Perhaps, but it's not ten yet, and this adoption has already stirred up half of Great Britain and caused an arrest! I don't believe that's reasonable. All this tension generates resentment…and resentment creates conflict. Given the past hostilities between Professor Snape and Mister Potter, I doubt it's a good idea to approve the request."

"That's the most ridiculous excuse I've ever heard," Snape protested strongly. "You've no right to use such vague and subjective suppositions to deny an adoption we've already signed!"

"I'm afraid I do, Professor," Saintclair retorted, "and believe me, the idea is far from ridiculous."

"You're the only one who thinks so," Severus growled.

"Actually, I'm of the same mind as well," a calm, little voice said, quickly attracting all eyes to the speaker.

Harry felt a wave of anger and discouragement wash over him as he saw a dubious Flitwick pensively stroke his beard.

"No intent to offend you, Severus, but we've all spent the last five years wondering how to protect Harry from your bad temper and latent aggressiveness. I'm persuaded you have the best intentions in the world, so far as this adoption, but it's hard for me to believe that five long years of hostility can so easily be swept aside. The fondness between the two of you is hard to mistake, but how long will this détente last before old habits and the past resurface and change your beautiful idyllic dream into a sickening cesspool? It'll be too late then to rescind the adoption, and everyone will only suffer because of it."

Beside him, Saintclair nodded enthusiastically, literally beaming with pleasure. "But that's obvious. I've said it repeatedly, all of this is perfectly insane!"

"I'd just say a bit precipitous," Flitwick hedged.

"I understand your concerns, Filius," the Headmaster assured him. "I myself had the same doubts. But recent weeks have been particularly eventful, and I firmly believe that all of this is for the best. Our boys know what they're doing…"

"No doubt," Flitwick agreed, "but I'd still feel more reassured if you'd use this," he said, pulling a little wooden box from his pocket, which he un-shrunk quickly before opening it.

Spying its contents, those present drew back more or less hastily, out of range of the object.

"I should've thought of this before," Saintclair murmured, seeming both happy and envious. "It's obvious."

Lost, Harry looked up at Severus, whom he found paler and tenser than a moment before. Whatever the translucent stone lying in the box was, it would seem the professor wasn't pleased.

"What do you think, Professor Snape?" Saintclair murmured.

Taking a deep breath, Severus turned to Harry. "Do you know what this is?"

The boy shook his head.

"It's a truth crystal. A stone with rather similar qualities to Veritaserum, but rather different in its effects. It forces those in its field of influence to state their hidden thoughts, to tell the truth, and to freely express their feelings, including the most repressed ones."

Harry swallowed hard. It didn't appear anything good could come of this…but he didn't see why everyone around them seemed so petrified by the stone, though. He and Severus had sorted out these questions long ago…hadn't they?'

He shrugged, vaguely uncomfortable.

"What do you think?" Severus asked.

"I don't know. Maybe it's not a bad idea. But not in front of them, if that's possible. Does it have to be me who uses it, or you?"

"Both, I assume," Snape sighed. "These stones are generally used in private discussions before an important event: marriage, divorce, or even to settle disputes within a team. This object is powerful, I hope you realize. It forces out fears and worries you might not even be aware of."

And it could spoil everything, Harry read between the lines. He shook his head. No, he wasn't afraid…not really.

"All right," he said as he turned to the social worker. "But in this case, you have to promise one thing. If, when we've finished with the crystal, we still want the adoption, then you'll approve it. With no further interrogation, questions, or last minute tricks."

"That isn't…" Saintclair said before breaking off. For a moment, she seemed to mull over the question, her eyes fixed on the crystal. "Very well," she finally agreed. "You're going to both shut yourself away with this thing, and you're going to let it work on you. Believe me, I'll know if that isn't the case. And if, when you return, you still have no doubts on the adoption, then I'll support your request."

"Perfect," Harry agreed. "Severus?"

The Potions master reluctantly agreed, not without a hostile glance for Flitwick, who bore it without blinking. Closing the box again, the little wizard held it out to him.

"My boys, you can of course use the library," Dumbledore said softly. "I'll ask our reporter friends to come join us in the office. I'm not worried," he said to Snape. "I know you'll come out strengthened by this test. Filius' idea isn't all that bad, even if the timing leaves a bit to be desired."

Severus' expression clearly communicated what he thought on the subject; nonetheless, he made no reply. Arms crossed, he waited while the Headmaster had the library cleared out, before heading for the room, pushing Harry by the shoulder, all under the intrigued eyes of the reporters.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, the boy turned to the professor.

"They're trying to set us against each other, is that it?" he asked with a frown.

"Saintclair, yes. Flitwick must think he's done the right thing, and all the thinking souls of the group approve. Wonderfully unanimous," Snape ground out.

Harry shrugged. "All the better, if it gets this over with faster. I've had just about enough of this circus. It can't be so terrible as all that, after all," he said, pointing to the box.

Severus glanced at him skeptically, an eyebrow arched in question. "You seem very sure of yourself."

"What, it's only a sort of Veritaserum, right? I mean, it doesn't force you to say…embarrassing things?"

"No, not in comparison to Veritaserum. But it's a type of anti-inhibiting agent that can quickly produce unexpected situations…undesirable ones."

The boy mediated on the matter for a moment. "Will the crystal act the same way on both of us? Will it influence both of us the same, I mean?"

"It will have less of an effect on me since I have more defenses and experience. But I'll be affected all the same."

"I see. Well, let's get down to it. We can't get out of it anyway," Harry said philosophically.

"Indeed it's too late," Snape sighed, pointing to an armchair and settling himself in another. Then, placing the box on the table between them, he opened it, exposing the crystal.

For a moment, both of them sat waiting in silence. Harry was the first to break it.

"I don't think it's working."

"The action is gradual, but it's already started to take effect," Snape assured him. "Now it's up to us to talk about the adoption. How you see things."

"And how you see them," Harry clarified.

"And how I see them," Severus agreed. "Any thoughts on the subject?"

"On how you see things, or how I do?" the boy said with a grimace.

"Let's start with my own. What might be my wrong reasons for wanting to adopt you?"

"I don't think it'd be for the fame, or to change me into a little Voldemort, or to give him my head on a silver platter, if that's what you're thinking," Harry said. "I know you're not like that. Honestly, I think we're past that point…"

"Perhaps yes, perhaps no," Severus said.

"You seem uncertain," Harry pointed out. "And I'm not even sure of what. Of me, or of yourself?" He shivered slightly, as if surprised by his own words.

Snape smiled; the crystal was taking effect. "I suppose it'd definitely be logical to doubt both of us for various reasons," he replied."

"You don't trust me?" Harry exclaimed. "Why? After all, you're the one who's been obnoxious to me for years!"

"Correct, even though your lack of respect didn't help matters. But you're the one who hesitated when it came to the adoption."

"You know very well why," Harry defended himself. "I needed to think. There were so many things…my parents… It wasn't so simple, even if I know my mother really liked you. After all, they're dead because of you, in a way."

He'd scarcely said the words when he looked away, blushing noticeably. But his frown remained, his arms crossed over his chest. Severus held back a sigh.

"I don't deny it. I've always regretted it, and all my efforts to compensate for that loss won't change a thing. The guilt will always be there, every day, each time I look at you."

He closed his eyes. His resistance to the effects of the crystal was clearly as diminished as the sum of his powers. When he looked at the boy again, it was to see disappointment painted on his face.

"That's why you're doing all this? Out of guilt? For my mother? Not really for me, in fact…"

"That has nothing to do with it. If that were the only reason, I would've done this long ago. I should've done it, obviously, if only for Lily. But you still resembled James so much, and knowing you were their son—both of theirs, the fruit of their love—it was simply too difficult. You stood for all that I'd lost, all my failures…" He ran a hand across his face.

"I've never been a very reasonable person. And I'm certainly a quintessential egotist. What I do now, I do for myself as well, for what you bring me. Joy, hope, a certain reason to live. I'm not so stupid to think all this will last forever, but as much as I could contribute to your happiness and protect you, I'd do it, and it wouldn't be to pay off a debt."

"And why wouldn't it last?" Harry retorted, clearly alarmed. "Do you intend to bail out on me the next time things get bad? When you find out something new, or when you have another brilliant idea, you're going to let me down again, like at the beginning of the summer?"

"No!" Snape cried, barely keeping himself from pounding the table with a fist. "No. I don't doubt myself because of that. I doubt my ability to defend you, to guide you, to meet your expectations, but certainly not my loyalty nor my attachment. I'm not the sort of person…I don't connect easily with people, Harry. But when it does happen, I don't take back my promises. Whether to your mother or to you."

"So what, then? You'll abandon me for my own good, or because Dumbledore asks you to? Or you'll run away in order to protect me, something like that?" Harry said, his voice trembling.

"No, no, and no. I swore to never abandon you again, and I won't break that promise. But you're going to grow up, Harry, and you have many friends, advisors, people with many more resources to support and protect you than I have. To love you. I'll always be here for you, but it's in the nature of things for you to move on to something else, once the danger has passed," Severus said reluctantly, attempting unsuccessfully to hold back his words.

"Is this what you think of me?" Harry murmured. "That I'm some sort of spoilt prat who takes and then forgets? Don't you understand how fond I am of you? When I say you're my father, I believe it! Things don't change because I forget to call you by your first name, or because I have friends or other people around me; I love you as if you were my father, even if I don't remember my own—James—and I don't care that it's only been a few months since we haven't hated each other, and I don't care what they think…"

"They just think you're mad, Harry," Snape said tiredly. "Not a single person approves of this adoption, not really. You're degrading yourself by agreeing to it, by associating with me. Sooner or later, the pressure they put on you will make you realize your mistake."

"You're horrible," the boy breathed out. "You can't really think that. My entire childhood, everybody thought I was some sort of freak or loser; there was always something wrong with me; I didn't have any friends because of Dudley, and even at Hogwarts—every other year—someone had to bring up something against me: Parseltongue, or the Triwizard Tournament—which I never wanted to take part in—there's always a good reason to say things behind my back; even Ron was against me for months! How can you think I'd let myself be influenced by what people think? I don't care what they think, _I_ know who you are. Anyway, I hope I do," he said bitterly.

"And if you didn't know?" Snape muttered, his hand moving reflexively to cover his Mark. "Have no illusions, you'll still learn things about me that you won't be happy about. Things that'll change the way you see me. It won't be easy; this adoption isn't the simplest of options available to you; things could take a dramatic turn and you'll have no other choice but to…"

In a violent effort at self-control, he managed to silence himself. He wasn't supposed to speak of it, especially not now, not this way. The Mark and its change of master had to remain a secret as long as possible. He needed time, and little did his fears on the subject matter; the damage was already done. He now had to reassure Harry and not burden him with further worry.

"…do your duty," he finished. "But I'll be there beside you. That I can promise you. Dear Tom owes me a debt as well, and I fully intend to make him pay it."

For an instant, the boy sat unmoving, staring at him, seeming lost and bewildered. He seemed so young like this, Snape thought. One might've thought he was scarcely eleven and had just arrived at Hogwarts.

"Do you love me?" Harry asked all of a sudden, his voice abrupt, his upper lip quivering.

"Of course I love you," Snape sighed. "I couldn't love you more if you were my biological son. All things considered, it's rather a relief that you've not inherited my genes. As I've already told you, the only thing I regret is the wasted time."

"I would've liked to know my parents," Harry explained. "But it's too late now. I'd like to know what they would've done in my place…if I look like them…what they would've thought of me. I know they'd be all right with the adoption, but I would've liked to have everything. For all of you to get along. The worst is that now if I had to choose, I'd choose you. And that's not fair to them. But you're the first person I really think of as my father, so…."

He gestured vaguely with a hand. "I don't care what I might find out, what you might do. I suppose it's what they call unconditional love, and I know it's stupid, and maybe I'll regret it, maybe I'm just desperate, but that's how it is and I don't want it to change. You are what you are, I'm in a position to know it. And I suspect it's not easy for you to make room for me in your life. So we'll just have to do our best, all right? And we'll see what happens…when it happens."

So much wisdom on the part of a teenager left Severus speechless for a moment.

"I imagine we're both desperate, in that case," he replied at last. "All this seems so dramatic now, but I suppose we'll laugh about it in a few years. Your mother was a very important part of my life, as you know, but it seems that since you came, these last few months, this adoption… You're by far the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I've no intention of letting anyone…or anything," he said with a disgusted look at the crystal, "ruin that. I'd like you to remember that, whatever might happen."

"Fine with me," Harry murmured, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. "As long as you promise not to use flea powder on me again. And not to play favorites with the Slytherins all the time. And not to yell at me in class like before. And not to hate my friends."

"So many promises," Severus murmured. "Perhaps I could make an effort if you promise to apply yourself in class, and not defy me all the time, and not throw yourself into all the traps people set for you, and to come and ask for my advice when you need it, and not put Quidditch and parties before your studies, not to always go looking for trouble with my Slytherins, and not try to manipulate me, not to steal from my laboratory, not to—"

"Uh, that's enough, I didn't ask for half so much!" Harry protested.

"…not to bring a girl to the house for at least two years…and all the other things that you know perfectly well must be done but you routinely ignore."

"All right, all right, I've got the general idea," Harry laughed. "And you…never lift a hand to me, right?"

"Don't be stupid," Snape said dryly.

"Okay. Sorry. As for me, it's fine. Where do we sign the contract?"

"It's already signed," Severus grumbled. "All that remains is to convince our dear friends from the Ministry."

"Do you think we should stay a bit so it seems it took longer, or can we go back?"

"This'll do it. I've had more than enough of this little routine. We're done with this crystal; are there still things you'd like to discuss?"

"No, nothing," Harry said firmly.

Snape reached out a hand to close the box, doing his best to hide his relief. He'd done it. He'd managed to pass the test without revealing the secret of his Mark. And Harry seemed relieved and more serene as well. In the middle of the storm, it was a little victory despite everything.

"In that case, let's rejoin the others in the office. I'm impatient to see what that Ministry harpy's next argument will be. Merlin, I'm starting to wonder if she's not working for Voldemort. She's very set on throwing a spanner in the works."

"A bit too much, to be honest," Harry grumbled. "I really don't understand why she's being so obstinate."

"It's the sort of reaction you should get used to. The news won't be very well-received."

"That doesn't worry me, I just want this sorted out and…" But Harry didn't have the chance to finish his sentence; he'd scarcely opened the door when he was interrupted by a powerful voice, fueled by both lungs of its furious owner.

"…by what right you're permitted to conduct this interrogation without a representative from my department? My word, doing what you like with no accountability! Whom do you take yourself for, Merlin himself?"

Curious but careful, Harry stopped and stuck only his head through the half-open door. It appeared the room had been soundproofed, for the large-framed, gray-haired witch who'd joined the other wizards in the office seemed to have been shouting for a while already, given the color of her cheeks and Amanda Saintclair's dejected demeanor.

"Professor Snape is above all suspicion, whatever it may be; he's a war hero, and you've allowed him to be treated like a common criminal?" the witch continued after taking another breath. At his side, Harry felt the satisfaction radiating from Snape.

"I was only doing my job, Madam Bones," Saintclair stammered pathetically. "It's the usual procedure."

"At this hour of the morning, and without consulting the Department of Justice?" the tall witch bellowed, more furious yet. "You're nothing but a schemer, and in whose service, I wonder!"

"I had orders…"

"Well, here are my own—orders. You're going to finish up this nonsense post-haste, and treat these people with the respect they deserve! I've never in my entire career seen such a… Expect to be inspected in the very near future, Madam Saintclair, Mister Hopkins!"

Harry couldn't help but smile at the pitiful mien of the two sorcerers. His gratitude toward Madam Bones was such that he would've gladly thrown himself into her arms, but he was quickly set to rights by Severus pushing him with a firm hand at his back.

Their entry seemed to relieve Saintclair and Hopkins, as their colleague's attention was distracted by the new arrivals.

"Professor Snape, Mister Potter, thank you for joining us," the witch greeted them. "I am Amelia Bones, Department of Justice. I beg you to forgive the unspeakable attitude of my colleagues who, it appears, were conducting a particularly distressing interview."

"Indeed," Snape answered, his satisfaction evident. "It seems obvious these persons are totally opposed to the adoption. I hope, however, that this isn't a reflection of the Ministry's opinion."

"The Ministry's role is precisely to _not_ have a personal opinion in this sort of case," Madam Bones said dryly with a dark look for Saintclair and Hopkins. "Your contract was signed using the correct procedure, and no faults were able to be found during the interview, it seems. I've learned you were asked to use a truth crystal. Its use in these circumstances was of course highly inappropriate, but might I ask what came out of it, though?"

"We still want the adoption," Harry replied. "More than ever." And in a burst of defiance, he changed into the cat and jumped to the professor's shoulder, staring at the group with his green eyes.

"I see," Amelia Bones said with a slight smile. "Professor Snape, I read the summary of your interview with Counselor Hopkins, but it would seem it was abruptly interrupted. So I must ask you the following question: do you realize that this is a lifelong commitment that will not end on the day Mister Potter comes of age? Like every parent, you'll be responsible for him until death comes, and beyond, if you wish to stay and haunt this place."

"I've well aware of that fact," Severus replied, stroking the cat without thinking. "The idea might seem absurd, but I really do have a vague idea of what this commitment represents, and especially with this child. The matter perhaps appears rushed, but it was carefully thought-out…on both sides."

"I don't doubt it," Madam Bones agreed. Then, after casting a quick _Insonorus_ intended for the reporters, she went on, "Additionally, there's the matter of the spell I heard about…sacrificial magic, it seems?"

"That's correct."

"Which protects Mister Potter, then, from all attacks while he's with you?"

"Absolutely," Snape confirmed, "but I'd be grateful if you'd not ask for another demonstration. The day has been sufficiently trying as it is."

"I had no intention to," the witch reassured him. "This magic, in and of itself, fully justifies the adoption and the purity of your intentions. I don't see how the matter could've even been considered from any other angle," she said with a disgusted look for her colleagues. "But if the need arose, it happens that the person who had me contacted—and who happens to be a particularly active student of this school—also had a petition in favor of this adoption provided for me. She gathered a hundred or so signatures from people who know Professor Snape and Mister Potter and approve of the adoption without reservation. I don't know how this girl could've acted so quickly, but this testimony confirms quite clearly the true basis of your request."

This time, Severus remained speechless, incapable of responding to such news. A particularly active student…Granger! Miss Know It All had decided to take things into her own hands, probably when her little friend had been called to the witness box, and had once more undertaken to save the world. He didn't know if he should be disgusted by so much loyalty or excess of cleverness.

"Given that this document hardly has any legal value, I'm going to give it to you. It will be more useful to you than to me," Madam Bones said, smiling slightly as she handed him the parchment. Snape hastily took the paper and put it in a pocket. Yes, reading the signatures would prove especially interesting.

"Mister Potter, do you have any specific questions on this matter…or any other?"

The cat contented itself with meowing once, his tone unmistakable even in this form.

"I see," the witch said, trying to hide her amusement. "Is there anyone else in this room who'd like to add something further?" she asked, eyeing her colleagues challengingly from head to toe.

"Simply to thank you for your quick intervention," Dumbledore answered courteously. "I myself didn't succeed in contacting you, but I'm happy to see that someone managed it."

"I was on holiday in Ireland," Madam Bones agreed, "but the Ministry should've called me for this sort of case. It would appear there was…some interference, but my niece was able to contact me quickly."

"An excellent thing," Dumbledore said approvingly.

"I think so as well," the witch said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll accompany my colleagues back to the Ministry, where we're going to have a little discussion. Professor Snape, Mister Potter, the verdict will be handed down to you during the day, but you have nothing to worry about. On the other hand, be aware that a visit will be carried out to your domicile in the course of this month in order to see the boy's living conditions. So far as you both living at Hogwarts, I'm not worried for now, but your residence on the outside will have to be equally adjusted to the needs of a teenager."

"It is," Snape confirmed, "but the place is under Fidelius for Harry's protection. So you'll have to take my word on it."

"Hmmm," Madam Bones said with a frown. "I'm afraid another solution must be found, but you still have time to think about it. I'll have you notified of the date of the visit a week in advance. For now, enjoy your day…and your new family. Good day, Professor Snape, Mister Potter, Professor Dumbledore."

There followed a moment of confusion in which each tried gather their wits, everyone wishing each other a good day with a lack of conviction. The reporters were in turn thanked, then finally the office was emptied of the Ministry representatives, leaving only the rightful inhabitants of the castle behind them

Severus let out a sigh of relief, before wordlessly handing the box back to Filius, who had the good grace to blush.

"I'm sorry about that, Severus, but it seemed to me that too many precautions were better than not enough," he explained gently.

"I understand," the Potions master replied. "Which doesn't mean I approve."

With a leap, Shadow jumped to the floor and transformed. "So?" he asked anxiously. "That's it?"

"It would appear so," Severus replied. "I truly thought this morning would never end, but it would seem, all in all, that we've had the last word."

"I can't believe it," Harry said, "between those two sadists sent by the Ministry, Malfoy, Loki… Oh, Remus, is everything all right?"

"It could be better," the professor said as he wiped his forehead, "but the most important thing is that everything worked out for you, Harry. I'm really sorry about those interruptions. Everything didn't go so well upstairs," he grimaced. "But it's not a problem anymore for now."

"No, indeed," Flitwick said jovially. "I'll have to teach it to you this evening, Professor Lupin; you could quickly have need of it."

"And…Draco? Where is he?" Harry asked.

"He's back in his cell for now, but an improved one," Dumbledore answered. "We'll have to have a serious discussion with him, but the young man made a difficult and brave choice today. We'll have to do our best to encourage him; his situation is going to be complicated in the time to come."

"Encouraging him is one thing, but there's no question so far as trusting him," Remus protested. "You heard what he said about Harry; he's only looking out for his own safety. He certainly didn't act out of loyalty or conviction."

"Draco is only a badly brought-up teenager with mistaken values," Snape replied dryly. "He took an enormous step forward today. He just needs support to continue on."

Remus shook his head, but didn't answer.

"Well, my boys, we have many problems to keep in mind or sort out, but for now, and given the circumstances, it seems to me that one thing is called for…"

"What, then?" Snape muttered, who would've liked nothing better than to go to his rooms.

"What? Well, let's see…a party, of course!"

Sighing, Severus rolled his eyes. Lupin laughed in spite of the circles beneath his eyes, Flitwick chuckled despite still seeming to feel guilty, and Harry….well, Harry seemed all at once relieved, happy, and ecstatic, like a sixteen-year-old who was being offered a monumental celebration.

Here they were. This time, they'd done it. And a new life was beginning…and one thing was certain: he wouldn't miss the former one a bit.

* * *

_And yes, this it it for the adoption part ;-) I hope you enjoyed it! I know that the crystal part might have seem a bit 'too much', as I was told by the French readers, and I hesitated when I wrote it but... I have a ulterior motive here, actually._

_Anyway, a lot of thanks to Raewhit, who translated this chapter: send her a lot of hugs and chocolate frogs because she's translated this chapter for you though she was very sick!_

_And as usual a lot of thanks for your wonderful reviews: love you guys!_


	46. Chapter 46 Let The Party Begin

**Chapter Forty-Six: Let the Party Begin**

The happy cries and laughter quickly gave way to a certain bustle of activity in the Headmaster's office, with Flitwick already rushing for the Floo to give instructions.

"Here's a good thing done! Yes, a good thing done!" Dumbledore exclaimed joyfully as he stroked his beard in satisfaction. "We must alert the elves right away…Dobby?"

The little creature appeared straightaway with a slight _pop_, before throwing himself at Harry and wrapping his short arms around him. "Oh, Dobby is so happy, Harry Potter! So happy, so happy!"

"Ouch, Dobby, not so hard, please," the boy protested, laughing, surprised by the elf's strength. "You already know about it?"

"Dobby knows! All the elves know! The elves always know everything, and they're preparing the grandest party that Hogwarts has ever seen!"

Behind him, Harry distinctly heard Snape groan.

"Thanks, Dobby, that's really very nice…but don't go overboard, okay? It's just a formality."

"Formality?" the elf squeaked. "Certainly not! It's a big day, a huge day, and everyone must celebrate! Dobby's going right now to take care of it!"

Without waiting for orders from the Headmaster, he feverishly disappeared again.

"Well," Dumbledore tittered a laugh, "I assume the word has been passed."

"Harry, I'm so happy everything's finally sorted out," Remus sighed, grasping Harry by the shoulders. "Whatever I might've said in the past, know that…"

"The Boy Who Lived finally finds the peace and happiness of a home, thanks to a former Death Eater! A Ministry conspiracy dedicated to making the adoption fail, thwarted! All of Hogwarts joins forces behind the Chosen One to… Oh, Professor Snape, might I see this famous list of your supporters?"

All eyes turned to Rita Skeeter and her less vocal but just as attentive colleagues. Aided by the concealment charms and the requirement that the press be discreet, everyone had ended up forgetting they were there…until now.

"Certainly not," Severus said dryly. "I think you have enough scandalous material as it is."

"Oh, you said it," a reporter agreed with relish. "It was an absolutely astounding morning. The show was top-notch, believe me, no one was disappointed…a work of art!"

"You realize, of course, that none of this was planned, and it was a matter of circumstances and real people?" Dumbledore asked.

"Entirely, and that's what makes the story so fascinating! Imagine how the public will hold its breath… Perhaps it'd be wise to make it a series; I see five episodes, breathtaking suspense, thousands of letters. Ah, but there mustn't be any advance leaks, Professor!" the reporter said sternly.

Severus shook his head, too disgusted to object.

"Albus, I'll leave you to take care of these…formalities. The morning's been long. Allow us at least a moment to rest in peace before your little get-together."

"But of course, my boy, of course," the Headmaster quickly replied. "I'll be waiting for you in the Great Hall a half-hour from now."

"Albus!" the Potions master growled. "An hour at the very least. And no need to come looking for us if we're late; we know the way perfectly well."

"Very well, very well," Dumbledore gave in. "So, a half-hour." Then, at the professor's dark look, he corrected, "An hour. One little hour. Just enough time to prepare everything we need. Oh, and of course classes will be canceled this afternoon."

Grumbling under his breath, Snape rolled his eyes and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Does the schedule suit you?"

Smiling, the boy nodded. Yes, nothing suited him better than a big party to celebrate his new family, in the company of his best friends. And before that, a bit of peace and quiet in private with his new official father wouldn't be too much to expect.

But as they went down the staircase, it became evident that peace and quiet wasn't the order of the day yet. Downstairs, several people had gathered, McGonagall at the front of them, and the anxious faces peered up at them, as if waiting for an answer.

"So? So?" the Head of Gryffindor asked, clearly unable to hide her worry.

"Everything's sorted out," Snape answered. "The official papers should be delivered sometime today."

A clamor of relief rose up from the group, intermingled with laughter and cheers. McGonagall, obviously moved, patted her colleague's shoulder, while a tornado of chestnut hair swooped down on Harry, crying shrilly, "Harry! I knew it! I was sure of it!"

"Oh yeah? So why did you spend the morning biting your fingernails and yelling at everyone?" asked Ron's distinctive voice from behind Hermione, both amused and tender.

"Oh, be quiet," the girl replied. "I'm so very happy, if you only knew! When Ron came back with what he had to say, I knew that woman wanted to deny the adoption, and she wasn't going to follow the rules, so I decided to find out about the procedures, and I went down to the library, but it was still closed, so…"

A slight cough interrupted her.

"Suffice it to say that Miss Granger's help has been invaluable in this adventure," McGonagall summarized, her expression for the girl similar to Ron's. "In truth, Severus, this young student had the brilliant idea of calling for Amelia Bones to arbitrate your case. She's a remarkable woman, just remarkable, but also difficult to find. On that matter, you'll have Susan Bones to thank as well, as she sided with you and managed to contact her aunt," she added.

"Indeed, it would appear we have a great number of people to thank today," Snape said, tapping the list in his pocket. "As for you, Miss Granger, I still don't know if I should be impressed or dismayed by the sum total of intelligence and efficiency that you've once again demonstrated, but you have my entire gratitude for your diligence and loyalty. Your help was more than priceless and will certainly not be forgotten."

The girl had blushed to an interesting shade of crimson, compensating for any reticence Severus might've had over-complimenting a Gryffindor in such a manner. What was more, the gratitude-filled eyes and happy smile Harry was sending her way were worth all the compliments in the world.

"As for your performance, Mister Weasley, it was completely remarkable _and_ noted," he added.

For an instant, the redhead didn't seem to know what to do with this information, until Harry confessed with a hollow laugh, "Yeah, we were in the room all along, hidden by a spell. It was really great, what you did. Thanks!"

The youngest Weasley boy was floored, mouth hanging open, his eyes unfocused, obviously going back over all he might've said during the interview. Severus savored the moment, watching the teenager turn redder by the second. Yes, this day was definitely full of promise.

"I, uh, I gotta go," the boy announced, refusing to meet his eyes.

"No need to panic, Mister Weasley," Snape reassured him with a slight smile. "As I said, your delivery left nothing to be desired. We won't linger on the details."

Ron's choked reply was drowned out when McGonagall interrupted.

"Am I to understand you were also present during my interview with that…woman?" she asked.

Snape nodded. "I must confess it wasn't the least of the day's surprises."

The witch sighed. "There are so many things… Oh, well, I suppose it's a good thing you heard it. Please know that I meant every word. These misunderstandings should've been cleared up long ago."

Again, the professor nodded, both skeptical and thoughtful at once. "We're going down to our rooms. We'll be back in an hour," he stated. Then, turning to Harry, who was animatedly chatting with his friends, he said, "Join me when you like."

"No, no need, I'm coming with you," he answered right away. Then, transforming into the cat, he jumped agilely to the wizard's shoulder.

"Until later, then," Minerva said, not quite managing to hide a smile. The students at her side didn't even make the effort, and some laughter erupted, as well as a few fond sighs. They even heard Madam Pomfrey blow her nose noisily as she was held up by Professor Sprout who also had tears in her eyes.

Fleeing the scene, Snape strode for the least frequented staircase to the dungeons, the cat firmly gripping his shoulder. After the emotions of the morning, the quiet of their rooms seemed a peaceful haven to Severus. With a sigh of contentment, he fell onto the settee and closed his eyes.

The cat jumped from its perch and reluctantly transformed. "I thought for a moment there that I'd never see this place again," Harry said, curling up in the cushions.

"Take off your shoes," the Potions master replied. "I'll confess that I myself felt more stressed than I expected to this morning. I think Albus himself didn't see certain events coming. For Merlin's sake, Lucius was supposed to be hidden in one of the secondary residences, waiting for the storm to pass. How could he have intervened so quickly?"

"Scrimgeour? Fudge?" Harry asked.

"No, no, it must've been someone else, someone acting more in the background, someone influential. A person who wouldn't wish you well, someone who would've had reason to want this adoption not to go through."

"Umbridge?" Harry suggested after a moment's thought.

"Precisely," Snape agreed. "I'd stake my life that the old cow's behind all this."

"But I thought she was out of the picture…you know, after what happened at the end of last year?"

"It's always the old nags who recover the quickest," Severus muttered. "I think we can count on Amelia Bones to offset her influence, but we'll have to keep an eye on that woman."

"Merlin, not now," Harry sighed, burying his head in the cushions. "I don't want to even think about it. I'm ready to drop, and much too relieved that it's all over. We deserve a break, don't we?"

Snape almost retorted that there was never a break in the struggle against the Dark Lord, but caught himself in time. No, it wasn't the right moment to spout out great truths and spoil the boy's happiness.

"Of course. Take your time, relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. I've the distinct impression this'll be our only peaceful moment of the day."

"Humph. I don't have anything against the idea of a party, but…I think I won't be going to bed too late tonight. Oh, I'm sleeping here, right?"

"That would probably be more reasonable," Severus agreed. "But soon you'll have to think of resuming your normal activities."

"Normal? Since when is my life normal?" Harry laughed. "I'll have to work a bit more on my magic, though. But I think that'll work out. I really feel like everything will go better now, don't you?" he asked with a big smile.

Snape tried to return the smile, but kept himself from answering. His own intuition was telling him that their troubles were only beginning, but once again, it was best to keep his opinion to himself. "If we survive Dumbledore's party, then we'll see," he said without adding more. But Harry was too enthusiastic to do anything but laugh again, before heading for the bathroom.

"Do you think there'll be reporters there?" he asked from his room.

"I doubt it," Severus hissed between his teeth. "Given the time of day, they must all be busy putting out a special edition. But we'll have to expect that some students will be granting special interviews."

"I know, I know. 'Our new celebrity', eh?" Harry asked before opening the tap and closing the door.

Alone in the sitting room, Snape couldn't help but flush slightly as he thought of that tirade he'd delivered to the boy on his first day at Hogwarts. Not one of his finest moments, no… Sighing, he settled comfortably into his armchair. Merlin, it wasn't even noon yet, and he already felt as worn out as after a long day.

Nothing surprising about that, though. After what had just happened, the nervous tension and especially… How in the devil had Harry managed that stunt? Compelling him to Apparate, here within Hogwarts, and even without consciously wishing it! He felt gooseflesh rise up on his arms. How was this even possible? He had to talk to Dumbledore about it; the old fool had always defended the notion that white magic was as powerful as dark, but Severus had never been convinced. And despite what he'd told Harry to reassure him, the powers he'd stolen from Voldemort couldn't be considered as neutral magic.

Merlin, just to think of the amount of power the boy must've developed to produce such an effect—he was almost sickened by it. When was Harry going to realize what had happened? Probably never, considering he hadn't seemed to find the event that unbelievable. But the next time something like that were to happen, he'd be forced to understand, and Snape didn't have the least desire to know what would happen when his new son understood the power he had over his father.

Rubbing at his painful Mark, he reached out for the glass of whiskey he'd poured for himself. He'd been too negligent about the boy's lessons. They had to start up again right away—test his limits, and especially teach Harry to have unfailing control over his actions.

And in a certain way, he thought this last point was going to present more difficulty than all the others.

To think he'd only been trying to heal an abandoned cat…

In the next room, the sound of the shower stopped, and a few minutes later Harry came out, dressed in fresh clothes.

"I hadn't realized I was so tense," the boy admitted as he fell into a chair. "Do you think I could have a lie-in tomorrow morning? Dumbledore…"

"…would certainly be happy to grant you a week of holiday, but it's out of the question. We have work that's overdue. You must be able to resume your classes as soon as possible, and we're going to step up your private lessons. You'll be going to bed earlier tonight."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of coming in late, but the Gryffindors are planning a party; at least I think that's what the others were trying to tell me in the corridor," Harry objected.

"Lights out at ten. You'll have the entire afternoon to celebrate the event, with the total lack of dignity befitting your House."

"Speaking of Houses, aren't you afraid the Slytherins are taking this badly? It's not exactly like they were happy, me being your cat, so…"

"So?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, so far as being your, uh, son, that really won't help things, will it?"

Severus smiled thinly. "Theyll' have to deal with it. The notion certainly won't make them as happy as the Gryffindors, but they're not any worse than your housemates, Harry. Perhaps you'll need to re-examine how your see my House to make them change their minds. We generally have different ways of doing things, a different viewpoint on things. Besides, Slytherin wasn't just Voldemort's House, I hope you realize that."

"I know," Harry agreed. "Well, I think I know. Don't be cross, but the first thing I learnt about Hogwarts was that Slytherin only put out bad wizards. Anyway, that's what Ron told me."

"If that were the case, do you think that House would still exist?" Snape said, clearly irritated. "If every person assigned to Slytherin had to become a Death Eater, and all the Gryffindors, Aurors, the world would certainly be a simpler place. It would suffice to send all the Slytherins to Azkaban straightaway, and the war would be moot."

"Prejudices die hard," Harry murmured. "Up until last year, I really didn't have a reason to think otherwise, that being said. You were the only professor who hated me, and then Malfoy…"

"Draco proved his courage today, I hope you realize."

"Courage? That's a joke," the boy hissed. "He was just trying to save his skin, even if it meant turning his back on his family."

"Of course," Severus said dryly. "Draco could only have bad motives. He could only be trying to find the most deceitful way of saving himself, not saving his soul. That's surely why, by the way, he prevented Loki from killing you."

"He's the one who brought him in to start with!" Harry protested. "And you heard him say it just like I did—with the Veritaserum."

"Everything isn't black and white, Harry," Snape sighed. "I'm asking you to be more open and patient with Draco. He took a big step forward today, and whatever you might think of him, he's fond of his family. The times ahead are going to be difficult; he'll need all of our support."

"I'll try," the boy grumbled. "After all, maybe there is a solution," he said thoughtfully.

"Which?" Severus asked warily.

"You're a Slytherin, and Houses are generally something that get passed down in families, like for the Weasleys. So maybe I could ask to be made an honorary Slytherin? A sort of House adoption, if you will!"

The Potions master, who had been trying to hide his scorn behind his glass, literally choked on his mouthful of whiskey, his eyes bulging. "Of…what…for pity's sake, where did you get such an idea?" he cried.

"What, you don't think it's great?" Harry enthused, seeming at his most innocent. "Honestly, it'd be a good way to develop inter-House relations."

"And are you suggesting that this exchange program include Draco Malfoy as well, in the interests of rehabilitation? I'm certain he'd be happy to explore the Gryffindor common room," Snape retorted.

"Merlin help us," Harry said, his face darkening. "I'd rather die than see that ferret park his precious arse in one of our chairs."

"I think that's exactly my students' opinion, concerning yourself," Snape pointed out. "Don't push things too far, Harry. This isn't the right time."

"I suppose," the boy conceded. "But I'm curious to see if they'll come to the party."

"I doubt they'll have a choice," Severus sighed. "And we won't either, if we put off going up any longer. Ready?"

"Yeah. Is this all right?" Harry asked, gesturing to his clothes, his usual class robes.

"I would've opted for something more formal, but it's your choice," Severus answered.

"No, really, you'd better tell me, I don't know anything about clothes…uh, the robe I wore to the Triwizard Tournament Ball? I think it's still fits me."

"That one would be too formal. I seem to recall we chose you some finer cut robes at Madam Malkin's. Now's the chance to try them. And pick out a white shirt instead for this sort of occasion."

"Are those your own personal tastes, or the wizarding world dress code?" Harry asked worriedly.

Snape rolled his eyes. "If I were to advise you per my own personal tastes, you'd be dressed in head-to-toe black, and we wouldn't be talking about fashion. Hurry up, will you, I don't want Albus coming down to escort us by the hand to the lions' den," he said with disdain.

"Okay, okay," the boy said as he went for his room. "But I didn't ask for no reason. If you don't want to be ashamed of me at public appearances, I'm going to need some lessons about this too. Before I came to Hogwarts, I only wore Dudley's old clothes, and so naturally, being presentable wasn't an option. And since Hogwarts, well, I thought school robes were enough, but someone told me that wasn't the case," he finished as he came out of his room again, wearing his new set of robes.

"That someone was truly very wise," Snape said sarcastically. "And that someone might've also told you that a tie knot isn't supposed to look like one for tethering up a hippogriff."

"What? Ron made this knot for me, it was rather well-done," Harry protested, then, squinting as he looked at him, he said, "Hmm. I suppose I've re-used it too many times."

With a sigh, Severus came to his rescue. "So, Mister Weasley wasn't up to teaching you how to make one yourself?"

"He tried, but I never really caught on. Ron does it over for me every once in a while. Works out well that way."

"Follow my movements," Severus said, detaching the tie and smoothing it out with a spell. "In this way, then up and over…like that. Do it again."

"Hmm, I know, like the movements of a snake going under the trunk and…" Harry began as he tried to reproduce the motions.

"A snake, hmm?" Severus said, raising an amused eyebrow. "I don't know that version, but if it helps you to memorize it, I certainly have no objection."

"Ha, very funny," the boy grumbled as he finished his knot. The Potions master readjusted it one last time before automatically running a hand through the boy's tousled hair.

"I suppose it'd be senseless to try and do something with your hair."

"It's my trademark," Harry smiled. "Thanks for the knot."

"Hmmm, try to remember how to do it. I don't ever want to see you go to class with a…prefabricated tie."

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Yes, sir." Then he frowned. "And you—who taught you how to tie a tie?"

He sensed Severus stiffen. "Lucius Malfoy. Ready now?"

Harry nodded, feeling a slight knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

"If you feel uncomfortable, just signal to me and we'll come back down," Snape said, his voice softer. "This party is definitely not a requirement."

"No, it'll be fine. I just hope they don't overdo it."

"Abandon all hope there," Snape murmured, opening the door. "Try to behave. I don't want to see a reenactment of what we were treated to in the Headmaster's office, when you decided to convene a trial over Lupin's paternity."

"Oh, Merlin," the boy moaned. "That's going to stick with me for a long time, isn't it?"

"I'll be delighted to tell your children about it," Snape said, a bit too enthusiastically for Harry's taste.

As the professor had predicted, all hopes of the party being kept within reasonable bounds were obliterated when they stepped into the Great Hall. A friendly but deafening din greeted them, and they were quickly surrounded by a swarm of people pressing in to congratulate them, shake their hands, or, in Harry's case, hug him. For an instant, the boy regretted lacking the aura of hostility that protected his father from all these outpourings of affection; he was dragged along after Snape to the center of the room.

Blinking, he realized the tables had been rearranged for the occasion: the High Table brought down from its platform, placed in the middle of the room and surrounded by the four House tables.

Contrary to what he'd feared, the Slytherin table was full, even though their faces were distinctly less joyful than those of the other students. The Hufflepuffs, surprisingly, seemed to be the most enthusiastic, cheering Snape and Harry both equally. The Gryffindors, for their part, seemed more restrained than Harry would've liked, but the triumphant smiles of his friends made him forget all the rest. Yes, once again, they'd made a good team…

Instinctively, Harry made as if to step in their direction before stopping. Where was he supposed to sit? He looked up at Severus, who motioned discreetly with his chin toward the central table.

The High Table… Intimidated, Harry let himself be led to the chair designated for him, opposite Snape. A quick look around told him he was indeed the only student invited to a place of honor. Glancing at Severus again, he caught the professor's slight smile as he stared at him with a mocking, raised eyebrow. Holding back the urge to stick out his tongue, Harry made a discreet sign toward Ron and Hermione, while the Headmaster cleared his throat for silence.

"My dear students, professors, ghosts, elves and other creatures…"

A sigh of relief rose up from the assembly. No, for once, the Headmaster wasn't going to launch into an endless and detailed list of everyone present.

"I'm especially happy and proud this afternoon to be able to gather all the inhabitants of this great school to celebrate a very happy and important event. Just today, Professor Snape obtained the Ministry's official approval for the adoption of the young man already in his guardianship, Harry Potter."

Annoyed, Harry fidgeted in his chair as he frowned. He understood Dumbledore's intentions, but he would've definitely preferred to have the papers in hand before making such a declaration. Seeing the dark look Snape was shooting the Headmaster, he seemed to be of the same mind as well…at least, until the wizard handed Severus a parchment, which he read carefully.

His expression quickly relaxed, relief written all over his face as he handed the document to the boy. Curious, Harry hurried to read it, and it took only a few seconds to understand: Dumbledore had meant what he'd said. The Ministry had truly given its approval! He was officially Snape's son! His vision blurred for an instant, his head spinning unpleasantly, hardly aware of the wave of applause around him. Across from him, Severus seemed at once happy and tired, a mixture Harry had seldom had occasion to see on that face, and which considerably softened the professor's features.

"So, it's done, this time? For good?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"Yes, it would seem so. Any regrets?"

"Certainly not," the boy replied, finally allowing himself a smile.

"It's a rare event in Hogwarts' history that a professor adopts a student, and completely unique for it to be a student from a different House. With all of my heart, I wish this family union to be an example and inspiration to all of you, and hope that from this point forward, the House rivalries we've known in the past will be set aside. We live in particularly difficult times—a new threat has once again arisen in the wizarding world, jeopardizing our unity. This coming together of two people—beyond being from rival Houses—is also one of two individuals who've up until now had a difficult and even antagonistic relationship.

Severus frowned, but made no move to contradict him.

"Once again, it's from the worst moments that the best things come, and it's in adversity that people who believed themselves in opposition to one another find a common ground to face their trials. So it's with heartfelt emotion and considerable pleasure that I welcome a new family to our school. May they experience all the happiness they've been denied until now."

Another wave of applause greeted the end of the Headmaster's speech, and Harry, accustomed to the end signaling the beginning of the meal, was surprised to see Severus get up to take his own turn.

"I do not have much to add," he began, "except I profess to know that the unity hoped for by Professor Dumbledore has already begun to come about. In fact, I've read through this paper…"

He solemnly unfolded a parchment that Harry recognized as Hermione's petition.

"…and given the names I was able to decipher, it would appear that—for some reason of which I'm unaware—students from all four Houses decided to support this adoption. Whatever new threat Miss Granger fabricated to compel you all to sign, be advised that it's a gesture that I will never forget. And even though all assistance provided to Mister Potter in critical situations will be largely through my care, I will, however, remind those whose intentions might be less than amiable, that any threat or hostile overture, whether it be toward my son or my cat, will be severely punished. And _that,_ regardless of the House affiliation of the erring student."

Harry thought it could only be a coincidence that Snape's eyes drifted toward Remus.

"As for the students of Slytherin House," he went on, as if he'd not just addressed them in his speech, "be informed that I'm now in my usual quarters in the dungeons, and so you can once again come seek me out if you have need. Even though the question has not yet been discussed, I hope to fully take up my duties in the very near future. Do not allow this day off, however, to give you any illusions as to the importance of turning in your Potions assignments on time."

Snape's speech was met with a groan, but a smattering of applause arose nonetheless. Harry didn't wait for all eyes to seek him out before he got up and took his turn.

"Well, um, it's my turn to thank all of you who helped us today, especially Hermione and Susan Bones—you really were there at the right time. I know the situation might seem weird, or too fast, or…a lot of things, but I wanted to assure you I'm not under any spell, Confundus or anything else. The Ministry agent even tested for that, you can believe it. There're too many things for me to tell you all of them now, but I hope to have more time soon to talk to you. And, um, of course, I mean students from all the Houses, at least, any who'd like to. What I'd really like to correct is something Professor Snape's just said: from here on out, my name's no longer Potter; it's Potter-Snape."

A murmur rose up from the tables, but Harry pressed on.

"Think what you like, but I'm sticking to it. The Ministry decision took it into account, so it's official now. Anyway, I know my relationships with the Gryffindors and Slytherins haven't always been easy ones, but my…father is Head of Slytherin, and I intend to do my best so everything goes well. I hope you'll give me the chance. I'd really like to make a new start…on everything. Everyone—thanks again."

It was only as he sat down that Harry noticed, at the end of the Slytherin table, a figure who seemed familiar. He frowned, refusing to believe his eyes, until the student leant slightly forward in a mockery of applause, clearly showing his face. Harry couldn't help but let out a low groan.

"He's here," he hissed through his teeth at Snape. "Malfoy. At the Slytherin table. How dare he?"

But Severus just lifted an ironic eyebrow, hardly impressed. "After your speech on goodwill amongst the Houses, I'm shocked," he replied.

"But this is Draco. What's he doing here? I thought he was locked up somewhere down in the dungeons."

"The occasion was sufficiently important to grant him a bit of a break, and considering the role he played today, I don't believe it's undeserved."

"I can't believe it," the boy hissed furiously. "Him, here, now! I can't believe it. It'll be the last straw if he comes to congratulate us."

"It will be the last straw if he doesn't," Snape said dryly.

So what had the boy expected? Harry had to learn to face this sort of unpleasant situation with more decorum and maturity if possible. But this wasn't the time to lecture him on etiquette, and no matter his own displeasure at Harry's hostile reaction, one thing was certain: Harry's reaction was at least rather important. And unfortunately for Snape, the boy was expressing this hostility in a very physical and visceral manner…

Resisting the pressing need to grab at his Mark, Severus lifted his arm across his chest as furtively as he could. The scar was throbbing painfully, just at it had so often when the Dark Lord had wanted to make his displeasure known. Harry was truly unaware of it, but the strength of his powers just then, combined with such sharp anger, would have made Voldemort go pale, faced with the peak of the boy's abilities.

"We'll talk about this later, Harry. Don't spoil the moment," he finally said, with all the normalcy that he could muster.

The boy nodded reluctantly and turned to look toward the Gryffindor table. The silent exchange between himself and his two friends seemed to calm him quickly, and Snape relaxed as he felt the pain recede into the background.

At last, the plates appeared on the table, and everyone grabbed their cutlery, including Harry, whose shyness seemed to quickly disappear. Merlin, did Harry have to mimic Weasley's table manners? Sighing, the professor brought the boy into line with a simple cluck of his tongue. Harry had the good grace to blush, before assuming an attitude that was more dignified but awkward.

The meal scarcely started, everyone began to make their way to congratulate the new family, forcing Snape to be more civil than he'd been in several decades at Hogwarts. As for Harry, he met these well wishes with good humor and obvious pleasure. Severus could almost hear the boy purring with happiness, like Shadow by the fire.

Harry, in fact, was swimming in a gentle stupor, a combination of good food, friendship and security. All these people seemed genuinely glad for what had happened to him, even Remus who was laughing with Professor McGonagall, even Flitwick who'd jumped from his seat to let loose a spray of fireworks at the end of his speech. In a way, all these people were his family now. Now that he was Snape's son, he would have a lifetime privilege to be at Hogwarts. At least for as long as Severus worked here.

Dessert finally arrived, but just as Harry thought the festivities were coming to an end, Hagrid surprised him, stepping up and placing a huge beribboned basket between him and Severus.

"I know it's not much, uh, but everyone was caught a bit off-guard! Shadow for sure already has one, but this one was made from griffin down. Best quality!" the giant grumbled into his beard.

Severus nodded. "It'll be very useful. Shadow doesn't have a basket at Hogwarts yet. Thank you, Hagrid."

A cat basket! Harry should've guessed. And in the middle of the fleece-lined willow basket was an earthenware bowl on which a lightning bolt had been clumsily engraved. Harry couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Hagrid. It's perfect!"

The giant flushed, and delivered a poke in the ribs that narrowly missed ejecting Harry from his chair, before going off again. Each in turn, the professors filed by to give gifts that were both symbolic and appropriate. All were well-thought out, and were appreciated, but the one that touched Harry the most, though, was without a doubt the one McGonagall gave. Once again, his Head of House seemed to have used her usual discretion to take photos without them knowing it, but Harry was unable to feel cross with her as he opened the album she'd given him. In the space of only a few days, the professor had managed to gather dozens of photos of him and Snape, mostly the two of them together, some of them separately: Shadow prowling in the corridors; Severus reading a parchment, seeming pensive; and in another photo, looking at him with that half-amused, half-annoyed expression he so often wore.

Snape, though, had clearly been wrong on one point. McGonagall hadn't got rid of all the photos she'd taken when he'd been a student at Hogwarts, and as Harry went through the pages, he found photos of a young Severus, most often with Lily. Many pages were still empty, leaving the boy thoughtful. The album Hagrid had given him, a few years before, would never be full. This one, though, would only get fuller. His new family was well and truly here, in the present.

And if Snape was less effusive than his son with his thanks, it was clear he was no less touched by his colleague's gesture.

Conversation took a lighter turn, and pudding was just about finished when a Slytherin student got up and headed for the staff table. Deliberately ignoring Harry, he went to Snape, whose face was unreadable. Even if Harry didn't know the students from this House well, he recognized Terrence Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker whom Malfoy had replaced in second year.

The boy stopped stiffly at Severus' side. "In the name of all of Slytherin House, please accept this token of our esteem and our congratulations on this happy event."

With a solemn gesture, he held out an antique-looking magical book to his Head of House. Craning his neck, Harry could read the title: Great Wizarding Lineages. Rather ambiguous, Harry thought, but Severus would know better than he if this were an insult or a real gift.

Slightly inclining his head, Severus took the book and placed in front of Harry.

"Thank you, Mister Higgs. In the very near future, I hope to have the opportunity to talk with the entire House about all of this."

"I hope so too, sir," the boy replied, before nodding back and turning for his table.

Around them, Harry heard the students of the other Houses begin to whisper among themselves, clearly unhappy. No one, it would appear, had had time to prepare a symbolic gift in the name of their House…and the Gryffindors seemed offended.

"Severus, I'll be back," he murmured before slipping away as discreetly as possible. The closer he got to the table where his House sat, the more Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him. It was a great honor to be able to sit at the staff table, but he'd missed his friends and the joking of those around him.

Trying, but without any real hope of keeping his flight unnoticed, he slid onto the bench between Hermione and Ron.

"Hey, everything all right?" Ron asked, swallowing the last of his third slice of cake. "So, that's how you get to eat at the grownup's table, huh? Okay, I can't say I envy you—hard to get seconds with Hagrid beside you…"

"No, it's fine," Harry reassured him. "Intimidating at the start, but Severus is there. Dirty trick by the Slytherins, wasn't it?"

"Their present?" Hermione asked. "No, that was very well done on their part. Professor Snape must be proud of them; I can't believe none of us thought to get something—I'm really embarrassed, Harry."

"You're joking, I hope," the boy retorted. "It was thanks to you that the adoption happened! I have to see Susan Bones, but right now's probably not the best time."

"To do it discreetly, probably not," Hermione agreed. "But it'd be good manners for you to visit Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw later. Professor Dumbledore was right—this is truly a diplomatic mission you have on your hands."

"Give me a break," Harry moaned, "let me enjoy the moment. Tomorrow, I promise. You've no idea how horrible this day's been."

"And it's only the afternoon," Ron laughed. "I'm sorry the twins weren't there; they sure would've had some great ideas on how to handle that horrible woman."

"I don't doubt it, but I prefer not to get her back up any more than necessary. No support from the Ministry is enough just now."

"They can't cancel the adoption, can they?" Ginny asked, drawing closer.

"No, not a chance. Harry's considered the professor's natural son now," Hermione reassured her. "Which doesn't mean they can't cause them problems. You're right to be wary. The…your other House is still well protected?"

"Always, and that risks being a problem, but it's not the most important thing right now," Harry said. "Did you see who had the nerve to show up for the party?"

"You're talking about Draco Malfoy?" Ron asked. "That dirty little snake…"

"Himself," Harry hissed, furious. "I can't believe Dumbledore let him come. And Snape seemed to find that normal."

"He did help both of you, though, in his own way," Hermione said, trying to calm him.

"He tried to set a trap for us, and got trapped himself, that's all. And now there he is at the Slytherin table, celebrating the adoption like nothing happened!"

"Actually," Ron said, "he's not at the Slytherin table anymore."

Harry followed the jerk of Ron's head, and what he saw at the staff table made him see red. Obviously taking advantage of his absence, Draco had slid into Harry's seat and was now talking with Snape, both of them bent over the table to keep their conversation private.

Seeing them, it was clear there was a longstanding bond between the two, Harry thought. Draco seemed upset, but Severus was frowning, speaking to him in a clearly calm and fatherly manner.

Which was too much for Harry. Throwing all discretion to the wind, he stomped off for the staff table, ready to eject Malfoy from his seat. His fury grew even greater when Snape noticed him, and shot him a deeply annoyed look. Oh, he was interrupting their little discussion, was he? Well, it was his adoption party, and Severus was going to have to deal with it. Harry was his son now, and Malfoy had nothing to say about it!

Before he had time to get there, though, Draco had left his seat to go back to his own table, contenting himself with shooting an angry, scornful glance at Harry.

Gritting his teeth, Harry took his place again, unable to look at Snape just then. How _could _Severus?

"Harry?" The low voice made Harry look up. Severus' face was tense and his eyes were flashing.

"What was he doing here?" the boy hissed.

"He wanted to talk to me," Snape replied, his voice laced with irritation.

"He had no right coming here!"

"And why not? There's nothing to forbid anyone from visiting another table, today like any other."

"You know very well what I mean," Harry gritted out, clenching his fists. What was Severus playing at?

"You're not the only person I must look after, Harry," Snape said firmly. "You are my son and nothing will change that, but I'm also Head of Slytherin, and I'm responsible for the well-being of my students. We'll continue this discussion later. If you'll excuse me for a moment," he said to his colleagues, before being the next to walk away.

But to Harry's surprise, Severus didn't head for the Slytherin table, but stiffly left the Great Hall. Furious and uncomfortable at having been deserted this way, the boy risked a glance at the Slytherin table. Speculation seemed to be running rampant among the students, but it was Malfoy's face that caught his eye once again. Alone in his corner, Draco was staring at him condescendingly, a slight smile on his face. Severus' departure had obviously pleased him.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Harry turned to Remus. He had to get away from here—talk to Severus and sort this out right away. There was no way he was going to let a Malfoy spoil his party on the day of his adoption. But at that instant, he realized that Lupin had also disappeared. Had he gone after Snape? Harry hadn't seen him, but it didn't matter; he didn't have time to look for another chaperone. The entire school was gathered here, so he wasn't risking anything by being in the corridors just now.

Quickly transforming into the cat, he disappeared beneath the table and slipped like a shadow for the exit. It seemed that someone called after him, but not waiting for anything more, Shadow took off into the corridor after Snape. Where could the professor have been going? Most likely to their rooms or his laboratory. In any case, heading in the direction of Slytherin was the obvious choice. Hugging the walls, he ran for the stairs as fast as his paws would take him.

It was so good and practical to be a cat in moments like these! In human form, it would've taken him three times longer to run the same distance, and he felt in such better physical shape, even if he could hear his heart pounding wildly in his head. His breathing too…was it his own? Really?

Flattening his ears against his head, he increased his speed. Something wasn't right, he could sense it; something shouldn't have been there—that noise, this feeling; he'd already come across it before, almost every time he'd prowled Hogwarts' hallways, in fact. Speeding up more, he turned into a larger corridor, trying to get rid of the feeling. He had nothing to fear, good grief, he was a cat and everybody was in the Great Hall right now, and he was at Hogwarts, the most protected place besides the Manor!

But as he emerged into another corridor, what he saw made him change his mind. Oh, there was indeed someone who wasn't in the Great Hall…or rather, something, he thought as his fur stood on end. Right in front of him, Loki stood panting in satisfaction, fangs bared and a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

How the devil could the wolf have got here? Merlin, he was supposed to be locked up in the Headmaster's office. Who could've let him out?

But all speculation stopped when the huge beast took a single leap in his direction, jaws gaping. In a panicked motion that was becoming familiar, Shadow leapt backward, crouching to gather himself, then began to flee as fast as he paws would take him.

Think, he had to think. How had he got out of this the last time? Malfoy! Where was Malfoy when you needed him? Slipping behind the suits of armor had slowed the beast, but how much time would that buy him? He had to get back to the Great Hall as fast as he could; he never should've left by himself, he should've waited for Remus. But where was Remus, then?

"Loki! No!"

The shout answered Shadow's question, as he felt a wave of relief spread through him. The wolf, though, only slowed, obviously reluctant to obey. Weaving in and out of the clanking armor, the cat tried desperately to let Remus intervene. Merlin, if Snape arrived before Loki was brought under control, they might be making a wolf skin carpet before the day was done.

"Loki! That's enough!"

This time, the threat was accompanied by a spell, and an instant later, Remus jumped on the animal, grabbing at a collar that Shadow hadn't noticed before.

Heart pounding, still hidden in an alcove, he took note of the accessory. So it would seem the wolf had also found himself with a collar round his neck, but he doubted Loki took to it as well as he did.

Flushed and out of breath, Remus managed to make the wolf sit, and slightly loosened his hold on him. Something was wrong with Remus, Shadow thought, but wasn't able to figure out what.

"Loki, you promised. Why do you always have to ruin everything? Harry, are you hurt?"

Reluctantly coming out from his hiding place, Shadow transformed.

"No, but it's not his fault. I understand dogs feel obliged to chase cats, but this is getting ridiculous!" he said, in an attempt at a joke.

"I'm sorry, Harry, so sorry," Remus sighed. "I wanted…oh, Merlin. I wanted to introduce Loki to everyone, take advantage of the day, but… I should've…I don't know what came over me. I didn't watch over him well enough."

Flabbergasted, Harry glanced at the wolf that seemed uninterested in the situation. Introduce Loki? On the day of his adoption? Without talking to Dumbledore about it? What was Remus thinking?

Skeptically, he scrutinized the professor suspiciously. His red face, the strangeness of his eyes; he recognized this…Lupin had been drinking!

"Remus!" he cried. "You were…but…oh."

"I'm sorry, Harry, really. But for pity's sake, what were you doing alone in the corridors?"

"I live here," the boy retorted. "I wanted to see Severus; he left the Hall rather suddenly."

"Ach, I knew it!" a voice thundered from behind them, making them jump. A moment afterward, a furious Hagrid lumbered toward Loki. "What did you do again? Can't you leave the cats alone? What sort of manners are these?"

To Harry's surprise, Loki looked sheepish.

"And you, Professor, what where you thinking? Luckily, someone warned me. Merlin, you can't just…"

"Oh look, a dog!" a young female voice interrupted.

"No, it's a wolf, and a big one at that!"

"See there, it has a collar!"

"Professor Lupin, is he yours?"

Caught off balance by the sudden arrival of students, Remus had nothing to say. It was Dumbledore's familiar voice that came to his rescue.

"Come, come, all students back to the Great Hall, please! The situation is under control."

But as the students reluctantly obeyed, Remus turned to face them, a hand on Loki's collar. "Yes, he's mine. You'll probably have a chance to see him in Hogwarts in the near future."

Harry couldn't help but notice Hagrid's frustration and the disappointment on Dumbledore's face, but neither of the two students said a word. With a nod, they left the corridor, Hagrid following after. An uncomfortable silence settled over the hallway.

"Ah well, once again we have a regrettable situation," the Headmaster sighed. "I'm not even certain I know where to begin. Harry, why did you leave without warning?"

"I just wanted to talk to Severus," the boy defended himself. "And I came across Loki."

"And?" Dumbledore prompted.

With an apologetic glance at Remus, Harry went on. "And he chased me. But I wasn't sure…maybe he just wanted to play."

The wolf's chuckle was revelation enough, but it was Remus' groan that made Harry realize how pathetic an attempt at an excuse this was.

"Professor Lupin?" asked in a dangerously cold voice.

"I…wanted to introduce Loki to the rest of the school."

"Ah, even though he'd just attacked Harry? I doubt that was an appropriate time to do it."

"No one has to know," Remus said with a pleading look for Harry.

The boy shrugged. He hadn't been hurt; what did it matter if that could make Remus happy?

"Oh really," drawled a voice from behind them. "How interesting. Of course, no one had to know that a werewolf was teaching at Hogwarts either; why would it be necessary to make it public knowledge that an out-of-control Animagus wolf is now roaming freely and attacking students?"

Harry closed his eyes. He was familiar enough with this dangerously ironic tone to know that a storm was brewing behind his father's black eyes.

"That's enough, Severus," Dumbledore said soothingly. "I'll take care of this. Professor Lupin, besides the fact that Loki clearly represents a danger for the inhabitants of this school, might I point out that this is Harry's adoption day? It seems to me that a single celebration of a new father-son relationship is enough for today."

"That's not what I intended," Remus replied, his face even redder. "I wanted to introduce Loki as…my familiar, and eventually as a study subject for Defense classes. Nothing so…extraordinary," he finished.

Was it just an impression, or was there a note of bitterness in Lupin's voice? Severus wondered. What in the devil was the werewolf thinking? But of course, he smelled a strong odor of alcohol, and it was obvious that the animal… The wizard had drunk more than was reasonable. Whether Lupin was having considerable difficulty accepting the adoption, or whether his relationship with his own son were proving more catastrophic than he'd foreseen: one didn't rule out the other.

But that changed nothing of what had just happened. Merlin, he'd only left for five minutes, the time to swallow down some potions to calm the Mark, and Harry had almost got himself killed again. Even here at Hogwarts, the very day of the adoption.

Severus felt a dull anger growing inside him. "This animal cannot stay here."

Harry turned his eyes toward Loki, but Dumbledore wasn't fooled, and shot him a reproachful look.

"All will be fine, Severus; it's just a matter of a few adjustments."

"No, Lupin nearly killed me when I was Harry's age, and now it's his son taking over, but against my son. No, Albus. Everything won't be fine. I will not wait for the next time to see it finally done. You must choose; it will be Lupin or myself."

"You're taking things in much too dramatic a fashion," Dumbledore began.

Beside him, Harry held back a groan. So what was the Headmaster hoping for with this sort of argument? Even without looking at him he could feel Snape's fury go up a notch. Sighing, he took a step toward him, trying to meet his eyes.

"Please," he said gently. "I'm fine. I know you're doing this for me, and I'm not exactly happy about what just happened, but please…give them another chance."

"I don't really see why you should have to be concerned with this creature," Severus hissed.

"Because…everybody needs a family, and they need more time, and they won't get that outside of Hogwarts. Loki needs Hagrid, and Remus needs Professor Dumbledore and us, and I'd really like to be able to help."

"As you yourself pointed out with the help of a measure of alcohol, your dear Lupin never seemed to think you were a priority in his life," Snape bit out venomously.

"I know," Harry replied, trying not to let his emotions show on his face. "But that doesn't mean _I'm_ like that. I prefer to be like my father." Seeing the doubt in Severus' eyes, he judged it best to be more precise. "…like you, and give people a chance, even if everything isn't perfect."

"I really don't see how that should pertain to myself," Severus retorted. "I have no impulses to behave like a Gryffindor or, Merlin forbid, a Hufflepuff."

"No, but you didn't throw me out once you knew…who Shadow was."

"I still don't see any relationship," Severus said.

"Doesn't matter," Harry sighed as he shook his head. "If you go, I'm coming with you, but I'd really prefer for all of us to stay at Hogwarts. Remus included…and Loki. Please."

Snape's mouth twisted in a moue of disgust, but he nodded at last. "It's not a good day to refuse anything, I suppose." Then, turning to Remus, he added, "As for you, Lupin, don't think we're finished here. We'll talk again once the festivities are over. From here on out, keep your dog leashed, and if I should surprise it, wandering on its own in Hogwarts… Well, let's sat at the very least we'll have a problem," he murmured.

Lupin's face paled markedly, and Severus saw the anger cross his face before he conceded defeat with his head lowered.

"Understood."

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should return to the Great Hall before a search party is sent out for us," the Headmaster suggested.

For a moment, the two fathers considered each other before setting off again. But Severus didn't need Legilimency to know that Lupin—Gryffindor that he was—was mulling over thoughts much darker than his own.

Meditating on the strangeness of fate, Snape headed for the Great Hall, a hand on his son's shoulder.

* * *

_A lot of thanks to Raewhit for translating this (long) chapter! I have a hundred things to tell you, starting by thanks for the wonderful reviews and 'hey guess what, I'm going to the US next summer!', but my head is falling right on my pillow right now... so I'll just say, I hope you liked this chapter, and if you haven't read it yet, there is a new fic called Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality that is just hilarious. Oh and vote for Raewhit in Snarryathon! See you soon, all!_


	47. Chapter 47 Party Consequences

**Chapter Forty-Seven: Party Consequences**

It was with a certain regret and apprehension that Severus allowed Harry go back to Gryffindor Tower once the party meal was over. Of course, it was hardly possible to lock the boy in the dungeons until the next millennium, but the notion was tempting. Harry, though, seemed less traumatized by the morning's events than he would've expected. Much less than he himself was, whispered a little voice in Severus' head.

But for Merlin's sake, couldn't the boy manage to take a step without calamity following after? If Severus had arrived but a few seconds earlier, Lupin's son would now be nothing more than an unhappy memory for everyone.

Of course, Harry hadn't traveled far; he was only in Gryffindor Tower, supposedly well-guarded by the Headmaster, McGonagall and Lupin. And for certain he couldn't always be right behind the boy. Severus knew all that, but as soon as he closed his office door behind him, he felt the knot in his stomach double in size.

Annoyed, he lit the fire under a cauldron. And why should he feel so ill-at-ease? Harry was well-guarded, and this morning he'd more than proved that he was capable of calling Snape when he needed him. Was it the solitude that bothered him? No, he'd cherished peace and quiet for years before a certain black cat had come to upset his life.

And then, this was Hogwarts; it was impossible to go more than a few hours without being disturbed for some stupid, irritating reason. As if to prove him correct, green flames flashed in the fireplace, someone seeking access via the Floo.

Harry already? No, not likely. Dumbledore? The Ministry? Feeling his heart rate increase slightly, Snape granted access to his office, and an imposing head became visible in the flames.

"Snape, we have to talk."

This time, Severus didn't hold back the groan. Not Mad-Eye already. One encounter per day with this individual was quite enough for him. But given the circumstances, obviously, he hardly had a choice.

"Enter."

The Auror stepped into the office, his wooden leg clunking on the stone floor. Without waiting for an invitation, he settled into the closest armchair with a groan.

"Make yourself at home," Snape said sarcastically.

"Yeah, give me a whiskey," Mad-Eye replied, barely bothered by his host's tone of voice.

Severus hissed, but did as he was asked before seating himself in his own chair.

"I hadn't thought to see you so soon," he pointed out, not even attempting to hide his displeasure.

"No time to lose," the Auror retorted. "There's trouble at the Ministry. I gave them the Pensieve with Potter's memories, and that started up a panic. Malfoy's under fire; I wouldn't give much for his chances of surviving. No one to protect him, given those sorts of images. He's well on his way to Azkaban, if you want my opinion. But Scrimgeour's another story. That moron wants power and influence—he's not happy at all. If I had my choice, I think I'd prefer Fudge. No guts, but not so hard-headed. Bah, doesn't matter. That's not why I came."

Slightly disturbed by Moody's uncharacteristic candidness, Snape was nonetheless taken in by his words. Finally, Malfoy out of the game. A little visit to Azkaban might solve some problems, if he managed to do it discreetly.

"Hmm, but Amelia Bones had the final word, it would seem," he replied.

"Admirable woman, she is!" Moody grunted as he slapped his thigh. "Yeah, hell of a witch. She got out her books and said her piece, and settled the matter in less time than it takes to throw an Avada Kedavra. So, that's all well and sorted out."

"I'm touched by your congratulations," Snape said as he took a mouthful of whiskey.

"Congratulations, eh?" Moody sneered. "Yeah, maybe so. I took a good look at all of Potter's memories, from the kidnapping to his rescue. It could've gone better, Snape; it dragged on much longer than it needed to. But all in all, it was acceptable. I probably could've done better with the Death Eater confrontation, but still acceptable."

"Better, hmm?" Snape scowled. "I can very well picture you limping amongst the tombstones with your trick leg and your legendary agility. Your efficiency would've no doubt been formidable."

"A leg's nothing; it's power that's important!" growled the Auror.

"I brought your precious Potter back in one piece, so stop complaining."

"From what I've heard, it's rather _your_ precious Potter; but I'm not complaining. What I haven't figured out, though, is the origin of this new Mark," Moody said, narrowing his eyes.

"That happened afterward. Well after," Snape said, avoiding Moody's eyes.

"Before or after the sacrificial magic?"

"After," Snape gritted through his teeth.

"You're in a right mess, Snape," Moody pointed out.

"Your encouragement goes straight to my heart…but Harry hasn't understood it yet, and he must not learn of it now. Not before he's gained a bit more self-control."

"Hmm. All good excuses, eh? But I'm in agreement on that last point. Going to have to work at it. Quickly. The boy's going to have to be operational in a very short time."

"Operational?" Snape asked. "You do realize this is about Harry? A sixteen-year-old, not an Auror in the ranks!"

"What's the difference? He has a mission to accomplish, and I'm not the only one saying this. And with his new powers, he has every chance…if he's well-trained."

"I'll train him," Severus confirmed, "but to survive, above all. He needs time to get ready. His powers are substantial, but his mind and body are still those of an immature boy. A victory over Voldemort just now would be a pure stroke of luck. It's a risk I will not take."

"As if you have a choice," Moody grumbled. "And the Mark? What're you going to do about that?"

"I don't see what there is to do," Snape sighed. "Things are what they are."

"Merlin's beard, Snape! Get a hold of yourself, you pathetic git! Where, when, how? Can this thing work with anyone else? How'd you do it?"

"I didn't do anything at all," Severus hissed between his teeth. "It was a confluence of circumstances that will not work with anyone else, unless you know of other Death Eaters faithful to Potter and whom the boy wants to pull from Voldemort's claws! I don't even know what forces came into play, what sort of magic was used, and neither of us was aware of what was happening. It will not be of any use to you."

"You're really good for nothing, aren't you?" Moody growled.

"I don't recall seeing you at the cemetery, helping to rescue the boy, nor at the Manor when we were under attack, nor anywhere else at a time when you could've been of any use, outside of this morning. So spare me your sarcasm."

Moody's eye glittered for an instant, but his reply came after a swallow of whiskey.

"All right, Snape," he said as he propped his feet up on the table. "I admit I was wrong. You're really on our side. And the sacrificial magic, I respect that, even if it's a female thing. But the Mark, bloody hell…we have to know more about it! How does it work?"

"Like the former one, but this one is attuned to Harry's powers. That little prat managed to force me to Apparate inside Hogwarts, simply because he wanted me to be there, without him even being aware of it," Snape groaned. Despite the hostility he felt for the Auror, he had to admit a certain relief in finally being able talk about this with someone competent. Questions had continuously swirled in his head since the Mark had changed, and Dumbledore's kindly remarks had scarcely helped.

"Apparating inside Hogwarts, nothing more than that?" Moody said pensively. "And you say Potter suspects nothing?"

"For the time being, no. He's too preoccupied with the rest of it. But he'll be bound to realize something in the end," Severus said, rubbing his arm reflexively.

Moody studied him for a moment before setting down his glass. "Show me."

"I beg your pardon?" Snape asked, offended.

"The Mark. Show me."

"What use is that appalling magical eye if it—" But Severus was cut off by that same eye staring at him piercingly. Abandoning his protest, he rolled up his sleeve.

For once, this gesture didn't inspire the usual disgust in him. The Dark Mark was infamous, yes, but this one…

Moody, who leant forward to see it, let out small gasp of appreciation. "Well, Snape, I'd say you've got it—your redemption, in the end."

"It's not about that," Severus ground out.

"Hmmm, and yet I wonder what Lily would've thought of this."

The remark hit home, and Snape flinched, gazing at the opposite wall.

"If Lily could've thought anything of this, there wouldn't be a problem. Let the dead lie in peace where they are."

"Yeah, except the dead in question are everywhere except where they're supposed to be. Did you call them, Snape?"

"But of course," Severus said sarcastically, "in between potions for the Dark Lord, I had nothing better to do than dig up bones so that ghosts could be my escorts. Be reasonable for once!"

"Yeah, but who, then? There're far too many unknowns in this story," Moody muttered. "First, this Animagus matter, and how that damned cat could end up at your place. Albus can say what he likes, but it's not very clear. And then these ghosts, this Mark, these bloody powers…where's this going to end, Snape?"

Severu stood and began to pace in the office. "I don't think we'll see the…ghosts again, or whatever they are. At least I hope not. Everything is connected from the beginning; nothing's as mysterious as it seems, but that doesn't mean I'm reassured. I've not yet regained all my strength or my power, but I feel progress each day, which means Voldemort feels it as well. I don't know how much time we have before he attempts another attack on Harry, one way or another."

"For now, it doesn't seem his henchmen are getting on too well without their master. Merlin, I almost felt sorry for Malfoy when they took him to the Ministry; the poor sod broke out with hives on his face, just from nerves. As for that underpaid excuse of a wolf, I have a hard time believing he got himself caught so quickly. That beast terrorized the countryside for months, and all it took was for him to take a trip to Hogwarts for the matter to be sorted out. Yeah, old Tom isn't going to be happy. He seemed rather taken with his new doggie. And now, both his right arm blokes are locked up…"

"Unless Loki is exactly where he wants to be, namely at Harry's doorstep."

"Under Dumbledore's nose? Incredibly bad idea."

"Really? With the help of those imbeciles haunting the castle, starting with Remus Lupin, the animal nearly killed the boy less than an hour ago. Albus is completely mad to keep him here!"

"Lupin? What's his story again?" Moody growled.

"The father of the wolf in question. Surprise, surprise. And yes, even werewolves reproduce."

"I already know about it, but that's no reason to act like idiots! And this is the one who's supposed to make a wonderful spy. Merlin, I thought we couldn't do worse than you, but on second thought…"

"Him, a spy?" Severus sneered. "I'd forgotten about that detail. Albus can't be serious; he's not even capable of getting information from his own son."

"Even more of a hapless moron than you, and still I didn't think we could do any worse," he added.

"When you're finished with the insults…" Snape said, at the end of his patience.

"I only insult people I really like."

"In that case, I'm astounded you've not yet asked for my hand in marriage."

"Matter of a haircut. You should work on that."

"That's enough! If you've nothing better to say, go back to your hole and let people work in peace. I have enough work that's overdue as it is, without adding a nosy, paranoid Auror into the mix."

"I still have work myself, Snape," Moody sighed. "The Mark. I need more information. This lightning bolt shape—where does it come from?"

"How should I know? I didn't pick the pattern from a catalogue, if that's what you mean. It started to change when Harry came to get me out of a coma-like state inflicted by Voldemort. Since then, it's continued to change into this rather characteristic shape. I've looked in the books I have on hand, and found no trace of anything like it."

"I'm going to put Tonks on the case," Moody said. "And I'm going to send her to hang about here to keep an eye on Loki."

"Good idea," Snape assented. "Harry's agreed to sleep in my rooms, which will further reduce the risk."

"And this protective magic, how does it work?"

"It's triggered in my presence, or inside the Manor. At least that's what I think. To avoid taking risks, I'll limit the area involved to my basement laboratory. I don't know how it will react here at Hogwarts," Snape explained.

"Not perfect, then…it'll have to be tested," Moody murmured. "But it only happens with Voldemort, right?"

"No. At the moment when I cast the spell, I wasn't thinking of Voldemort in particular, but of anything that might come to hurt Harry. He can certainly be wounded by cutting himself on a knife, but no one could cast a curse at him or physically assault him with bad intentions. At least not in my presence."

"Interesting. A bit limited, but interesting. Maybe if you were dead, it would work all the time."

"That's possible, but it's a bit late to verify that," Snape said dryly.

"Yeah. Anyway, you're of more use alive right now," the Auror admitted. "You have some good days ahead of you, but something tells me the boy's not finished putting you on the hard road. No, not the easiest of fates. And since you need to find an heir, you could've chosen one from Slytherin."

"One does not choose a cat—they choose you," Severus simply said. "Let me know how your research turns out; I hardly have time to do any myself just now. I assume Albus is on the matter, though."

"Hmm, yeah. I prefer for Tonks to stay on it. Dumbledore is much too secretive for my tastes lately. Who knows about the Mark?"

"You and Dumbledore. I suppose it would be useless to ask that you not spread word of it?"

"The Order will have to be kept up to speed," Moody objected. "It's critical information."

"Far too many people, too many possibilities. All of it will get out much too soon. So, no."

"The Order members are loyal and trustworthy, Snape."

"I'm sorry, but for now those people haven't given me any reason to trust them. Hold your tongue or I'll no longer cooperate with you," Severus retorted.

Moody narrowed his eyes, obviously displeased, but didn't reply right away.

"I'm much too tolerant with you, Snape. Enjoy your hero status; it won't last."

"If only," Severus growled.

"And Voldemort. Does he know? Because if he does, don't expect this to stay secret."

"I don't know, but I doubt he's aware of the magnitude of what's happened. He must think I'm holding him off at a distance using potions. He'll definitely end up understanding, but the later the better," Snape sighed.

"Yeah, one problem at a time," Moody said as he stood. "Well. I'm off to the Ministry, playtime is over. I'll keep you up to date if I learn anything interesting. Do the same for me. Understood?"

Perplexed, Snape shook his head, but at the Auror's piercing look, finally agreed.

"Snape, things have changed," Moody said at last. "It was all well and good to play the bitter, solitary bat when you were a double agent, but now it's about Potter, and Potter needs everyone. You might be his father, but you're not the only one responsible for the boy. We'll all win this war together, or not at all. The sooner you get that through your thick skull, the better."

Without waiting for a protest, Moody turned on heel and was engulfed by the Floo.

In Gryffindor Tower, it was a very happy cat that jumped from chair to chair, to the laughter and applause of his friends. The after-party, organized by the faithful circle of Dumbledore's Army, had given Harry the chance to thank everyone as well as making his feline form official. Most of the students had seemed interested, especially the girls, whom Ginny and Hermione had to stop from petting the 'cute little kitty.'

Their curiosity, though, had quickly run its course, and then most of them had politely excused themselves, preferring to enjoy their day off in their own way.

By the time evening came, the only ones in the Common Room were Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna, who'd been gladly invited to Gryffindor Tower. She was enthusiastically telling them about her holiday with her father, spent tracking a mysterious Mongolian Artagul, when Harry felt someone tap him awkwardly on the shoulder.

He turned in surprise to find Remus, his face flushed crimson and clearly ill at ease.

"Could I talk to you for a moment?" the professor asked.

Harry nodded, motioning for his friends to go on without him. Resting a hand on his shoulder, Remus led him to his office, just a few steps from the Gryffindor Common Room. There was nothing inappropriate about the gesture, but Harry still found himself trying to escape his friend's hand. There was something strange about Remus that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Please, have a seat," the professor said as he pointed to a chair. "We…we've not had much chance to talk today, but I wanted to tell you how very happy I am for you, Harry. Truly very happy."

"I…thanks," the boy replied, thrown off balance by Remus' shifty-eyed look. "I'm sorry about Loki. That could've gone better."

"Yes, certainly, if I hadn't been so stupid," the werewolf sighed. "It's for me to apologize once again. It could've all ended tragically. I'd understand if you prefer that I not stay at Hogwarts."

"No, no, that's not…I understand. We all did stupid things. Loki seems to, uh, be angry with me, isn't he?"

"It's not as simple as that, I'm afraid," Lupin said, pressing his lips together. "He's not angry with you, Harry, no…he just…his mind isn't very clear. And mine hasn't been either, evidently."

No, Harry thought, that was the least that could be said…and all of a sudden, everything was clear to him. Remus' mind hadn't been clear that morning because he'd been drinking, and it wasn't clear right now for the very same reason!

"You…do you feel all right, Remus? Would you rather we talk some other time?"

"Thanks, I'm fine. I wasn't able to congratulate you properly this morning; things were a bit…rushed."

"About that," Harry interrupted, "I'm grateful for your testimony, for the adoption. Thanks a lot. I know it wasn't easy for you."

"I have to get used to the idea that it's what makes you happy, what you want," Remus agreed. "But it's so hard to forget how happy you were with your parents, how much they loved you…"

"They would've wanted this, Remus," the boy said gently.

"Probably so. They would've wished for your happiness. And it would seem Severus is the right person. That's why I'm certain he'll understand…"

Lupin made an uncertain gesture toward the pocket of his threadbare robe, and at last pulled out a small, oblong package.

"This morning at the party, I didn't have anything to give you. I'm sorry."

"That's all right," Harry protested. He'd not even noticed that Remus hadn't given a gift. "Everything happened so fast, and I didn't even know it was customary to give those sorts of gifts. It's not necessary, really. We don't need anything."

"Perhaps, but still, I think you'll be happy to have this," Remus said, without committing himself to letting go of the object. "This should've been your birthday present, actually, but neither Tonks nor myself were able to get it to you in time. It's a bit…unusual for an adoption gift. I could hardly give it to you in public. But it's rightfully yours, of course."

As if he were reluctant, he finally handed the package to Harry, who took it carefully.

His curiosity aroused, he painstakingly unwrapped the paper to reveal the shaft of a polished old wand. It had clearly been used; all that remained to be known…

"Whose is it?"

"Was. It was your father's, Harry. James'," Remus replied with emotion. "I recovered it, afterward, from the ruins."

Incapable of speaking, Harry stared at the wand as if hypnotized. James' wand, the one with which he'd tried to defend himself against Voldemort, but Snape's words came back to his memory then. No, James didn't have his wand that night.

"Where…where did you find it?" Harry croaked out.

"Godric's Hollow, in the wreckage of your parents' house," Remus said gently. "I should've given it to you sooner; I simply didn't have the courage to part with it until now."

"I understand," Harry said, slowly recovering from the shock. "Thanks, Remus, I'll take very good care of it, I promise."

"That's not the only reason I gave it to you, actually," the professor went on wearily. "It's a proven fact that children have a special connection to their parents' wands. What I mean by that is that if you were to lose your own wand, this one would probably be the one that would suit you best. I don't know what became of Lily's."

"That explains why Severus' wand works so well for me, then," Harry suddenly realized out loud. "It even worked better for me than my own wand, during that storm at the Manor."

"Pardon?" Remus said, his eyes suddenly wild.

"Severus' wand. I've used it several times, and it was perfect for me. Really powerful."

"You must be mistaken. It must've been a different wand," Lupin disagreed, shaking his head.

"No, really, it was Snape's," Harry assured him. He shook his head then, disappointed. "I thought you accepted the adoption, Remus. This was before then, but it comes back to the same thing. Everything didn't happen all at once, you realize."

"No, you don't understand, it's not about that," Lupin groaned hoarsely. "Death Eaters' wands have certain protections. All of them. They're charmed to respond only to their owner…or Voldemort. In a more general way, to those who bear the Mark, but I know that Severus' wand is particularly treacherous."

Then, as if seized by a sudden frenzy, he jumped toward Harry to shove up his sleeve.

"Thank Merlin," he sighed as he released it. "There's nothing on you. I'm sorry, Harry, I should've checked."

Stunned, the boy had jumped back at the assault, and now stared at the professor, looking betrayed.

"You're talking nonsense," Harry spat out. "You're completely drunk."

The professor's face paled slightly at this attack, but he didn't try to deny it. Wordlessly, he walked to his desk, took a potion from a drawer and swallowed it in a single gulp.

"Hangover potion," he explained. "I've probably abused the circumstances a bit today. But that doesn't change anything, Harry. You couldn't in any case have used Severus' wand. During an Order meeting once, an argument broke out between him and Moody. Both of them had to be disarmed. Fletcher was stupid enough to try to pick up Severus' wand to give it back to him. It took several days for him to regain the use of his arm. He didn't even try to use the wand, Harry, only touch it."

"I don't understand," Harry said, shaking his head, "but I can assure you it was Severus' wand that I used. The first time, he was unconscious, and I didn't know where mine was. I was able to cast a Patronus for hours. The second time, it was Snape who gave it to me, because I couldn't cast one with my own. It was during the storm…and it worked right away with his. A long black wand, more slender than mine," he clarified.

Despite his potion, Remus' eyes were still blank, Harry noted, and even more so after what Harry had just told him.

"It's…very tricky, Harry," he finally said. "I don't exactly know what that means, but I think you should ask him."

"Maybe he just fixed his wand so I could use it," the boy replied with a shrug.

"It's not that simple. Certain of those spells were set by Voldemort himself." Seeming to come out of a trance then, Lupin tried to plant a smile on his face. "But it's good news, Harry; it means you have an extra possibility in case of a problem. Still, keep James' wand safe. You never know what might happen."

"Of course. Thanks, Remus. It's a very fine gift," Harry said warmly. "I'm going to show it to Severus—it's time for me to go downstairs. By the way, how's Loki?"

"Oh, he could be better, but he's under control now and…in good health."

"He's back up above Dumbledore's office again?" Harry grimaced.

"No. No. It's…Hagrid who's taken things in hand right now," Remus admitted.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Harry offered, knowing how hurt the professor had to be. "I'm sure it's going to work out; you just need time."

"You and Severus hardly had time to adjust to each other, and yet…"

"That's because we were at our best," the boy said with a big smile. "We spent so much time hating each other before that, I think we hit our lifetime quota, don't you think?"

"Probably," Remus replied with a weak smile. "I'd best go with you if you're going down. All well and good that Loki's not free, but I'd feel more reassured."

"And Severus as well. I'd like that, thanks."

Both of them took off in silence, after a quick detour to the Gryffindor Common Room. All that remained of the party were a few decorations and sweets lying on the tables, and the sight left Harry with a strange aftertaste. It hadn't been anything like the parties held after Quidditch matches, and he hadn't expected as much, obviously, and the idea of these two celebrations today had vaguely bothered him, but to see how quickly his friends had moved on to other things, Harry wondered if he hadn't overestimated his housemates' tolerance. No one held anything against him, of course, but…

Shaking his head, Harry left Ron, Hermione and their friends and walked off towards the dungeons, a slight ache in his heart.

"Starting up classes again wasn't too hard for you?" Harry asked Remus as they followed the corridors.

"For now, I've only given a few lectures, actually," the professor replied. "Loki's taken up all my time lately. I was thinking of taking on a full schedule at the same time as Severus does."

"Soon, then. Not too nervous?"

Remus smiled. "I'll let you know after my first day of classes."

"Everyone will be happy to have you back," Harry reassured him. "The students missed you a lot after you left. It really wasn't good on Severus' part to do what he did."

"Many students still don't like the fact that I'm a werewolf, in spite of all that Albus might say. But with most of the Death Eaters' children gone, I suppose the difficulties will be fewer."

"This promises to be a weird year. By the way, are you really planning on showing Loki in class?"

"No, probably not right away, but when he's more used to us and the place. Who knows?" Remus replied.

"But wouldn't that be a bit strange?" Harry pushed on. "I mean, he's your son, and…"

Frustrated, he stopped.

"We'll see. And you—are you apprehensive about going back to Potions class?" Remus changed the subject.

"Yeah," Harry confessed. "But Severus promised to be different…I suppose we'll see."

Lupin smiled again, and both continued on their way to Snape's rooms in silence.

"I'll leave you here. Good night, Harry, and don't hesitate to come see me if you need anything."

"Got it," the boy said as he pushed open the door. "See you tomorrow."

As surprising as it appeared, the depths of the dungeons seemed as welcoming today as Gryffindor Tower. It was…home, pure and simple.

With a slight smile, he headed for the sitting room, where Severus had lit a fire and was reading, comfortably settled in his armchair. It was Shadow who jumped agilely onto his lap.

"Here you are, alley cat," Snape grumbled. "You didn't come home late. Sometimes you manage to listen to what you're told, after all."

The wizard's hand moved to automatically pet the purring cat, curled up in a ball.

"I left the gifts that might interest you in your room," Severus went on. "You'll find a copy of the official adoptions papers as well."

And Hagrid's basket, Shadow realized, was sitting just to the side of the fireplace, out of the way of the Floo—perfect for a good nap.

Perfect. Everything was perfect. Overcome by fatigue from the day, little by little he gave himself over to sleep and dozed off, rocked by Severus' quiet breathing.

ooOOoo

It was the sudden tension in the Man In Black's body, as well as the sound of hurried footsteps, that pulled Shadow from his sleep. Someone had just entered their rooms, he noted, and Severus hadn't got up to greet this person at the door.

He lifted his head and barely held back a furious growl. Malfoy! Slipping quickly to the floor, he crept away and discreetly hid himself in a corner by the fireplace.

"Draco," said Snape coldly as he finally got up, "to what do I owe this late visit? I didn't hear you knock."

"I didn't knock," the boy said haughtily. "I'm welcome here, aren't I? I had to…I…must talk to you. It's important."

"I'm listening," Severus said, arms crossed over his chest.

"Father's been arrested," Draco choked out.

Snape's face relaxed slightly and he motioned toward a chair. "Sit down. I'm sorry, Draco, but you must've expected it would end like this. That attack this morning was really the last straw. It was stupid and untimely. Lucius was already in a rather precarious position."

"You don't understand; he doesn't have any support within the Ministry now. They're talking about confiscating the Manor, of administering the Dementor's Kiss. I didn't want that—it's my fault, I shouldn't have stood up to him. He'd warned me…"

"Draco," Severus interrupted, "you did the right thing. I was very proud of you today."

In his hiding place, Shadow felt his stomach knot painfully.

"I know how difficult it is to make good decisions when everything seems against you. What you did today was very brave, and made you a person worthy of respect. Supporting your father would've only led to your downfall, and Lucius should've known it."

Harry saw Draco swallow hard, seeming markedly less dejected. "Severus, I have the Mark, you know it. I can't…how do you do it? I feel it all the time! He's furious with me; he wants me to come back, he wants to punish me!"

"I'll give you potions," Severus said gently. "That won't be enough to make the sensation disappear entirely, but it will dampen it. It's not a curse."

"Then you'll have to give me Dreamless Sleep potion and Calming Draughts too," Draco continued. "And something for upset stomach."

And why not a foot rub? thought Shadow, whose irritation was growing, minute by minute.

"For the last one, you'll have to see Madam Pomfrey. But everything will be fine, Draco. Or better at least. You made the right choice."

"That's what you say," Draco said, tugging nervously at his robes. "Father was furious; he really meant what he said—he wants to disown me! And the Dark Lord will never leave me in peace."

"Lucius will quickly calm down. Narcissa will convince him. Your father loves you, Draco, in spite of his changes in mood."

"Oh yeah, really?" the boy sneered. "If that's the case, why did I get this?" He pulled a parchment from his robe and held it out to Severus with a trembling hand.

The professor took it and read it, his face darkening as he did.

"It's an official document," Draco croaked out, resting his forehead in the palms of his hands. Harry had never seen such a despairing look on that face, not even that day in Moaning Myrtle's toilet.

"Someone must've forced him to make this request," Snape said at last, but his voice betrayed his doubt. "He can't disinherit his only son like this; it doesn't make any sense."

"They don't want me to be part of their family anymore; they won't give me a Knut anymore. I no longer have the right to go back to the Manor, and it's official, Severus, it's official! All of it's your fault. I should've never listened to you, I should've never disappointed him; it was a mistake since the beginning!" the boy shouted, his pale face twisted in a frightening grimace. Despite his anger, Harry couldn't help but feel a certain pity for him. Losing a family that one no longer remembered was one thing, but to have your family reject you after all these years….

"Draco, I'm persuaded that all of this is only temporary, but you may be sure I'll do everything within my power to help you," Snape replied calmly. "I'll speak to Dumbledore."

"I don't give a damn about Dumbledore," the boy cried, his voice increasingly shrill. "You're the only one who can do it. You have to do it, Severus, you can't leave me like this!"

"What do expect of me?"

"For you to adopt me!" Draco said, his hands clenched on the arms of the chair. "You adopted that good for nothing Gryffindor, Potter, and he's not even one of us. You have to take me too, you owe it to me, and I'm not like him—we're already almost part of the same family."

At these words, all of Harry's compassion disappeared. A red veil settled down in front of his eyes, and he heard his heart begin to beat like a drum in his chest. Malfoy…how dared he?

"Draco, you've totally lost your senses," Severus said. "It's completely absurd."

"No it isn't!" Draco pleaded. "It's the only possible solution, don't you see? You can't leave me like this, not after what I did; you promised to help me!"

"Not this way," Snape said dryly, then pulled himself together. "I won't let you down, Draco, you have my word. You'll be safe here at Hogwarts. But your suggestion is inconceivable."

At these words, Shadow regained enough control to come out of his hiding place and transform again. Malfoy's expression when he saw him—somewhere between stunned and hateful—was a balm to Harry's heart.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Draco spat out. "I'm talking with Severus. Get lost!"

"I live here," Harry hissed. "Unlike you. Severus made it clear—go back to your dormitory now!"

"That's enough," Snape said curtly. With a hand, he motioned for his son to step back. "Draco, I'd appreciate if in the future you'd knock before entering. This familiarity was acceptable when I lived alone here, but that's no longer the case. If you wish to meet privately with me, then that will be done in my office."

"Why?" Draco spat. "I've always done it like this since I've been at Hogwarts, and I should change because of this Gryffindor? I honestly don't see why."

"Because this Gryffindor is my son. End of discussion."

The triumph that passed across Harry's face couldn't have pleased Draco, for he started up again with renewed vehemence.

"No. Adoption. I want you to adopt me as well. You have to do it!"

"I don't have to do anything at all, Draco," Severus sighed. "It's out of the question."

"It's because of him, isn't it?"

"Among other reasons, yes," Snape agreed.

"It's only been weeks since you've even liked him! It doesn't' make any sense—you've known me since I was small; I'm the one you should adopt, not him!"

Harry felt his barely suppressed anger ratchet up a notch. A part of his awareness realized that the glass phials on the table were starting to rattle together, and that the paintings on the walls fought against their fastenings, but no one in the room seemed to be paying attention.

"Things are what they are, Draco. You have a family, and they won't be long in coming to reclaim you. Your exile will not last forever."

"You…you're nothing but a traitor!" Malfoy ended by shouting, making a face of disgust.

This was too much for Harry. "You filthy snake," he said, his voice shaking with rage. "Get out of here now. I forbid you to take that tone with him; you've no right to insult my father!"

"Your father," Draco spat out, "you've nothing to offer him. You don't have a home, you're not even a Slytherin. It's all a joke and everybody knows it. You ended up in the street and you needed a protector, and only Severus agreed to take you, probably because Dumbledore forced him to! You're the one who has no right to be here and take that tone with him. Be happy with the handouts you get, Potter, and don't abuse the privilege! You're not welcome here."

It wasn't only the paintings and phials shaking now, but the furniture as well. An electric shiver ran along Severus's spine, coming directly from the Mark.

Absorbed by their rivalry, though, neither of the two boys had noticed this, and Snape felt relieved. But he had to calm Harry down now, under the threat of seeing the imminent collapse of the walls.

One hand on Harry's shoulder, Severus stood by his side in order to face Draco. "That's enough. Draco, we'll talk about this again later, in private."

"What?" Harry exclaimed beside him. "No! He can't come here!"

"No, indeed," Severus said tersely. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd calm yourself and let me take care of this. Draco, I understand that you're in shock from recent events, but it's more than past time to control yourself. This attitude is completely unworthy of a Slytherin. As for your notion of adoption, it couldn't be more misplaced. Harry is my son now in every possible way, whether that pleases you or not, and I fully intend that everyone treat him as such, beginning with my own House! It's high time to leave House rivalries behind, especially you. I'm sorry, Draco, but this is the sort of attitude you can no longer permit yourself. You're going to have need of allies…and to alienate Harry Potter seems to be a very bad way to begin."

Silence fell over the room again. Beside him, Harry seemed to have been mollified by the speech. Draco, though, was breathing raggedly, glaring darkly at the rug. Jaw clenched, he nevertheless ended by nodding.

Snape held back a sigh of relief. Draco's Slytherin side had finally resurfaced again.

"You need to think," he offered. "Go back to your dormitory. We'll talk about this again with clearer heads."

Once again, the boy nodded and shot Harry a piercing glance, now clouded with doubt. A fragility that Severus had rarely seen before on his face, Draco seemed to hesitate, before finally turning on heel and leaving the rooms without a goodbye.

It was Harry who sighed when the door closed. "Merlin, I really wasn't expecting that."

"I know. I despise doing it, but the password for the entry door will have to be changed. We cannot take the risk of leaving the field open for him," Severus said thoughtfully.

"You don't trust him either," Harry pointed out with a certain satisfaction.

"I didn't say that. But he's desperate, and…he's still a Slytherin. As I said, it's a risk that I cannot take."

"I feel like the day will never end," Harry sighed. "Have you been to see your students?"

"Yes. Slughorn had already taken care of it, but it's time that I took the reins again."

The boy made a face. "So, how did they react?"

"These are Slytherins, Harry. As you might expect, they're certainly not going to make their displeasure known loud and clear. But they're far from thrilled by the news. They'll deal with it. Once again, they hardly have a choice."

Harry sensed the bitterness behind these words, and a twinge of guilt pricked at his stomach. "It's not perfect, is it? That I'm a Gryffindor, I mean."

"No. But as retraining you seems impossible…"

"I could always dye my hair green."

"Hmm," Snape smiled. "It appears that Shadow has already begun to apply that idea."

Harry groaned, covering his face with his hands. "I still can't believe McGonagall put photos of that in the album. It was an accident, a bad accident."

"Yes, Horace told me."

"And I don't understand why it keeps coming back. Ron's not having a problem with it."

"I have a theory on the subject," Severus said. "Nothing proven, of course, but per my observations and what Horace explained, I'd advise you for several reasons to avoid alcohol in the future."

"Oh Merlin. That's it? The alcohol that…oh. All right."

Snape laughed softly. "Such obedience from a sixteen-year-old, what more could I ask? It's been a long day; it's time to go to bed, Harry. You have everything you need?"

"For sure. I'm going to collapse as soon as my head hits the pillow. This day wasn't long—it was endless. I'm finding it hard to believe that just this morning, this still wasn't official."

Snape nodded solemnly. "It's certainly going to take a while for everything that's happened today to sink in."

"I don't know," Harry replied. "I only know I'm happy. And I just wanted to tell you…thanks."

"Harry," Snape began, then shook his head. "You've nothing to thank me for. Rather I should be the one… Go on, off to bed. Enough emotion for the day. Tomorrow we'll begin training again."

"All right, but…do you think…what Malfoy said," the boy tried to explain, "about the adoption. Do you think they feel the same way? Slytherin, I mean?"

"Draco is jealous, Harry, I thought you understood that. The others will surely be more objective in their deductions. But once again, give it time. Everyone here will need it."

"I suppose," Harry sighed. "Well, goodnight."

"Sleep well. If you need anything, don't hesitate to knock on my door."

"Not a chance, I'm going to sleep like a rock," the boy yawned as he reached his room.

With a slight smile, satisfied that the day had ended without further drama, Severus did the same.

Sleep wasn't long in coming. In spite of all the threats facing them, long experience of this sort of situation usually allowed Severus to fall asleep right away. A light slumber, though, a sleep that the least alarm bell in his consciousness would interrupt.

It wasn't a faint alarm that wakened him a few hours later, but the sound of a veritable struggle in the sitting room.

Heart pounding, all his senses on alert, he sat up quickly, wand in hand, once again congratulating himself for sleeping fully clothed. In a flash, he was at the door and found himself in the middle of a battle.

Objects were literally flying through the room, crashing into the walls; the furniture seemed to glide across the floor as if imbued with a life of its own, and a burst of violent spells crisscrossed the room from one end to the other without any real target.

In the middle of this, Harry was shouting, whether from rage or fear, Snape couldn't tell. He seemed to be both insulting and asking forgiveness of someone at the same time, but without eliciting a response.

Merlin, who could've launched this onslaught in the middle of Hogwarts? Voldemort? He was the only one who could produce such an effect, but in the depths of the school, that seemed unlikely. Loki. No, he would've attacked outright. Draco! Surely Draco had changed his colors again and let Death Eaters into the school, in some way or another.

But where? He saw no outline of a shadow except for the vague one of Harry, hunched up in the middle of the sitting room. His attempts to stop the spells from moving objects having failed, Severus reluctantly decided to light the room. His _Homenum revelio _spell had shown nothing, but he couldn't be certain it had worked, given the weakness of his powers. So much for the element of surprise; best to see the enemy. Whatever this was, Harry wasn't afraid of anything in Severus' presence.

"_Lumos!"_

The boy blinked, his expression exasperated but not at all frightened. He was holding his leg with both hands, Snape noticed, and seemed to be suffering. Merlin, the wards…they hadn't worked! Why...?

"Harry! Where are they?" he shouted, searching frantically for the origin of the attack.

"Who?" Harry groaned as he tried to straighten up.

"No, don't move! Who came in? Who…" But all of a sudden, the answer struck Snape head-on.

"There's no one but us," the boy replied. "I'm sorry, it's my fault, but I couldn't stop them anymore."

"It's all right, it's all right." Avoiding the flying objects, scarcely recovered from the shock, Severus made it to the center of the sitting room, where Harry stood hopping on one foot. "What happened?" he asked, taking him by the shoulders. The boy was trembling, he noted. Obviously, despite his brave façade, Harry had frightened himself too.

"Nothing. I just wanted to ask the house-elves for something to eat; I was hungry. I tried to get to the Floo, but this bloody end table! Couldn't you put it somewhere else?"

"The…end table." Snape shook his head, all the while methodically rubbing the boy's back. Little by little, the furniture stopped waltzing and the objects began to fly slower and slower.

"I banged into it," Harry moaned. "Really hard!"

"Let me see that," Severus sighed. And indeed, the boy hadn't done things halfway; a nice hematoma was already standing out on his shin, which was bleeding heavily. With a few spells, the matter was fixed and Harry rubbed his leg with relief.

"Merlin," Snape growled, "couldn't you have lit your way, like any other civilized person? You don't have a cat's eyesight in this form. You have to make better decisions!"

"I didn't want to bother you," the boy protested. "And I didn't think about going there as a cat," he admitted in a pitiful voice.

"A Lumos probably wouldn't have awakened me," Severus pointed out.

"But I did that! But…too late…"

"I don't understand."

"Lumos! I cast it! But I bumped into something and I was afraid that it was Malfoy or I didn't know what; I wasn't wide-awake. I cast a Lumos and…you remember what that did in the forest?"

Snape paled. Oh, yes, he remembered all too well, that almost unbearable light that was brighter than day.

"It hurt my eyes," Harry went on when he saw Severus nod. "And that did weird things to the settee, by the way. It's a bit…translucent."

Severus stared off in the direction of the settee, which was currently rotating in a lazy circle. Harry was right. He could make out the shapes of the furniture behind it.

"It's nothing," he said absently. "And the rest of it?"

"Oh well, hmmm…I think a lost control a bit," the boy confessed. "I didn't cast any other spell, I promise, but everything started to shake; it was really bizarre. Were those my powers, you think?"

"No doubt about it," Severus agreed. "Calm down now. Don't think about it anymore. Your anxiety provoked this agitation. The sooner you calm down, the sooner everything will be settle down."

To the wizard's surprise, the boy suddenly turned and buried his face in his robes, holding onto him. Moved by emotion, Severus put his arms around Harry's shoulders, the entire time watching the objects dancing a strange saraband around them. A moment later, Harry groaned and turned his head.

"I can't do it. I can't change into the cat."

Snape felt a shudder run through him. This wasn't a good sign…

"It's not important," he lied. "Just relax."

Running his hand through the boy's hair like he would've done with the cat, Severus began to hum softly. Bit by bit, he felt Harry relax and his shaking stop. It had been fatigue more than anything else that had provoked this bout of panic, he realized, but the nervous tension of the day had certainly contributed to it.

When the last of the paintings had stopped jiggling and the sitting room was still again, he leant gently down towards the boy, who he found half-asleep.

"Everything's fine. There's no more danger."

Harry blinked and looked around. The room seemed to have undergone a systematic attack. He could still feel the waves of energy that had swept through the room like a storm, overturning furniture, throwing objects everywhere. He shivered; and he'd been the cause of it? Merlin, he was an outright public menace. He'd simply wanted to get to the Floo. At least he wasn't hungry any longer; the panic had made him lose his appetite. Sleepiness had returned, but he couldn't help but wonder what would occur if something like this happened again. He couldn't control anything, absolutely nothing.

"Can I sleep with you?" he asked pitifully.

Severus groaned, but nodded. "Transform into the cat. You'll take up less space."

Without even thinking, Harry slipped into his cat form before jumping into Snape's arms. Snape headed for his room without a glance for the disorder around them.

"Insufferable alley cat," Severus muttered. "I was hoping for a few years yet before having to chase after you at night."

Shadow began to purr loudly, eyes closed, then sensing that his Man In Black had stretched out on the bed—fully dressed as usual—he went to curl up on his chest, happy and safe.

ooOOoo

Early the next day, Snape felt the light weight on his chest disappear, followed by the muffled sound of a cat jumping to the floor. The door opened and closed soundlessly, and Severus groaned, still drowsy. What time could it be? A Tempus informed him that it was only five A.M. What the devil had got the boy up at such an hour?

He cocked his ear, waiting for the slightest sound. Furniture being moved, objects gathered up and replaced. Harry simply wanted to restore a bit of order to the sitting room before Severus got up. All well, good that he do it. He himself had no intention of exerting himself so early, and he didn't see any reason to discourage the boy. Sighing in relief, he fell quickly back to sleep.

Shadow had spent one of the most peaceable nights, after the long day he'd endured. He'd slept so soundly that he didn't remember dreaming. His cat instinct had alerted him that morning had come, and despite the early hour, he'd decided to leave the nice and cozy nest and try to repair the disaster of the night before as best he could.

At the time, Snape had been too exhausted to shout at him about it, but he couldn't expect that to be the case today. And the more the sitting room seemed habitable, the better the chance that he'd survive the day.

The state of the room left Harry in shock. Was it he who was responsible for this carnage? A crystal carafe was lying in a thousand pieces at the foot of a wall, several paintings had been ripped apart, not to mention the furniture, of which certain pieces had lost a foot or a drawer. One would've thought this the middle of a battlefield, and it was clear that the objects had been the big losers in the war.

There was no question about using magic to restore order; his own was too hazardous. One by one, he tried to put furniture and objects, or at least what was left of them, back in their places. Feeling increasingly pathetic the more he discovered new disasters, Harry felt worry steal over him.

This was truly a bad way to begin his new life…and these powers, why did they get away from him to this extent? He'd been tired, on edge, surprised, but never before had his magic betrayed him this way. And what if someone had actually been in the room—Malfoy coming back to talk to Severus? Harry would be a murderer now. He'd be one anyway some day, and these new powers were surely going to play a role in that.

Vaguely nauseated by the spectacle the sitting room presented, in spite of all his efforts, Harry headed toward the little-used kitchen. At least he could make something for breakfast himself, try to control his powers that way. It'd be a chance to start earning forgiveness, and to show he wanted to do better.

He shoved a hand into his robe for his wand, but the wood he felt with his fingers seemed strange. Surprised, he took it out, and the events of the night before came back to him. James' wand…his father's. He'd kept it with him yesterday. He'd forgotten to talk to Severus about it. He turned the piece of wood over in his hand, and felt the slight familiar electricity travel up his arm. Yes, the wand recognized him. Maybe he'd even played with it when he was small.

Overwhelmed, he slid to the floor, his back against the counter. The wand was shorter and thicker than his own, and it showed signs of heavy usage. With it, James had fought Death Eaters, and Snape as well. This was the wand that could've saved him that night, if only he'd had it on him.

Lost in his thoughts, he began to caress the wand polished by usage, pointing it between his legs at the opposite wall. What if he tried a spell? Would it be more or less effective than his own? Than Severus' wand?

Absorbed by his musings, he didn't hear the steps behind the door, and only realized at the last moment that it was opening. Severus. He must've seen the carnage in the sitting room and was coming to find him. Harry looked up guiltily at the wizard, preparing for the worst.

But hardly had Snape noticed him, leaning against the kitchen counter, when he stopped short, an expression of pure astonishment on his face. For a fraction of a second, Harry didn't understand, then all of a sudden realized the position he was in…seated on the floor, hair mussed and his face reddened by his attempt at housekeeping, and playing with a bit of wood between his spread knees.

Snape composed himself in an instant, but not quick enough for the boy to miss his horror. Harry jumped to stand, his fingertips holding the wand as far away from himself as he could.

"No! It's not at all what you think!" he cried.

"I…you…yes, I understand very well. I mean, I don't…" Severus ran a hand across his face, letting a groan escape. "I've obviously not slept enough."

"It's rather embarrassing," Harry choked as he tried to laugh, at all costs avoiding his father's eyes. Severus didn't seem in a hurry to reestablish visual contact.

"Apt euphemism," Snape huffed out. Then, noticing the wand the boy had thrown onto the table, he said, "That's…not yours."

Harry was tempted to respond with a sarcastic, 'No, really?' but deciding the situation hardly called for it, he contented himself with rolling his eyes.

"No, it's James'. Remus gave it to me last evening."

"James' wand?" Severus repeated, clearly stunned.

Really, his father mustn't have had his quota of sleep, to show himself so slow this morning, Harry decided.

"Yes," he confirmed. "He found it in the ruins of my house. He said it might be useful to me, that it would be more suited than any other to my powers if I were to lose my own."

"Oh."

Severus seemed to lose himself in his thoughts for a moment, and Harry decided to push the matter. "I told him your wand worked very well for me."

Was that just an impression, or had Snape paled?

"What did he think of that?" Severus asked offhandedly.

"He didn't seem to think that was normal. He said your wand had special protections."

"That's true," Severus admitted. "I was surprised the first time you were able to use it. I never would've thought of offering it to you myself, but that suggestion came from you, once I understood."

"Could you explain it to me?" Harry asked, vaguely annoyed by the wizard's suspenseful manner.

"Protego? Nothing nor anyone could hurt you in my presence, nor in that place. Which equally includes my wand."

"And…that works with all Death Eater wands?" Harry asked in astonishment.

"I wouldn't take the risk of testing that. Mine might have a certain affinity for you that the others will not."

"Oh. I see." That seemed logical. But in that case, why did he have the distinct impression that Severus wasn't telling him the entire truth?

He shrugged. It didn't matter. The question of the sitting room still wasn't sorted out.

"Um, sorry about the furniture. I tried to put things back in place, but I think it'll take some spells. I'm not even sure if that'll be enough, in fact," he confessed. But to his surprise, Severus only shrugged.

"I'll ask Albus if he'd like to try something later. It's not important. Have you eaten?"

"I…no, I was going to make something," Harry replied, caught up short.

"No need, you only have to ask the elves."

"I prefer to do it myself. What would you like?"

Snape smiled and shrugged slightly. "Your choice will be mine. Just give me time to take a shower."

"No problem. I'll try not to burn anything," Harry laughed.

Severus smiled again, and headed for the door before stopping, all trace of the smile gone. Strangely hesitant, he turned toward Harry.

"By the way, if ever you should…ah well…do what young men your age do," he began in a subdued voice. "Preferably the bathroom than the kitchen. For everyone's convenience."

Then, without waiting for a reply, he fled more than left, leaving a crimson-faced Harry alone in the kitchen.

* * *

_Hi everyone, here we are again! Special thanks today to my favorite translators: Raewhit, thanks to whom you can read this, and also Herika, for the Hungarian version, who offered Shadow a few ( well, more than a few) awards to put on the mantel! I was so totally thrilled with those (yeah, I might get a bit conceited where this story is concerned, really!)_

_About the end of thise chapter, I think some people asked me in the past if there would be some romande in this story; well the answer is that it won't be the main storyline obviously, but as you can see (or not) Harry is still a young cat full of hormones who is not going to be neutered any time soon. So yes, I am about to release chapter 51 in French and he is having some idea about a certain girl. Who is also have some thoughts of her own. How incredibly articulate I am. _

_Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! Oh and by the way, if any of you have any idea about which NY Youth Hostel to stay in (cheap/secure/clean) for a few days in July, I would be most grateful! Ny, here we cooooome! :-)_


	48. Chapter 48 Control

Chapter Forty-eight: Control

The door closed with a muffled thud, and the tap of long-expected footsteps rang out.

Finally, after hours of waiting, she was going to have her chance. Every sense on heightened alert, she crouched down along the wall to better see her target.

The dark-haired boy stood in the middle of the corridor, glancing quickly around him before changing into the cat. There was no doubt it was really him. She couldn't help but inwardly smile. He thought he was safe here in the dungeons, but he was wrong. All of Hogwarts was her territory, and Potter wouldn't be safe anywhere. The black cat glided along the stone wall and took off at top speed.

What naïveté. How could he think he was safe this way? He was slow, clumsy, and…alone. Really, this prey was too easy. Jubilant, she sped up, cutting the distance between them. And this imbecile still hadn't noticed her, but he was nervous now—she could sense it in the rigidity of his paws and his sudden acceleration. Stupid creature—what did he take her for? Always roaming around on the prowl, looking for trouble. Ah well, he was going to find it. And his headlong flight for the Gryffindor dormitory wasn't going to save Potter…Shadow…didn't matter which!

The black cat had good speed, though, she'd have to give him that. But it would be of little use; he didn't know the place like she did, and at the next turn she'd take advantage of the gap to waylay him and put an end to this chase that gone on too long. Potter had escaped her for far too long, but in a second she'd block his path and his retreat at the same time, and then…

"Mrs. Norris!"

Foiled again! Hissing with frustration, the cat stopped short, ending her pursuit a few inches from the oh so familiar robes of the Head of Gyffindor House. And that voice, alas, there was no way to escape it! Mrs. Norris knew it only too well.

From behind the red robes, a little black furry head with green eyes peeped out to look at her, his expression full of confusion and…was that a trace of shame?

Satisfied for the moment with the effect, the old cat turned her back to him and took off with dignity, her tail straight up and her manner haughty.

Behind her, the young black cat transformed into a rather indignant teenager. "Mrs. Norris! I _can't_ believe it!"'

"Well, well, Mister Potter," McGonagall said with a small smile, "have you had a bit of a fright?"

"It's…I…it's unbelievable, I should've guessed from the start," Harry exclaimed. "It's been her all along, I'm sure of it. Ever since I came to Hogwarts, every time I went prowling about, something was following me. That was the exact sound."

"I'm not surprised," McGonagall agreed. "Mrs. Norris has her own distinct way of marking her territory, of showing she remains the supreme authority when it comes to cats in this castle. She accepts my authority reluctantly, but she makes all the students' familiars feel like they're only intruders. She's a true tigress!"

"And she's ruthlessly efficient," Harry said, recalling the numerous times he'd fled, unaware of her presence. "If I'd known…you think that…she would've fought me? I'm not sure I could stand up to her in that form. It would be a bit ridiculous."

"Oh, she'd give you a strict lesson if it had to come down to it, of that you can be certain. But Mrs. Norris isn't aggressive, and battles according to the rules are beyond her years. No, she's just trying to impress, and I must say she's hugely succeeded. Content yourself with groveling on the floor and making her understand she's won; that's all she wants."

"What a…she really deserves her name!" Harry roared.

But his Head of House smiled indulgently. "She has her quirks, but she's a brave cat. She doesn't wish you any harm, Harry, much the opposite. It was she who alerted her master the last time Loki attacked you. Without her, Severus and Remus mightn't have been able to intervene in time."

Shaken by the revelation, Harry tried to call to mind all the occasions when he'd heard the cat running behind him.

"Actually, I think she helped me more than once," he was quick to admit. "I probably owe her quite a debt. I'll do what you told me—she really deserves it. And this is her home here…so long as she stays out of Snape's rooms."

This time McGonagall laughed outright. "I doubt it. She and Severus have a long private history. It so happens that our Potions master sometimes needs cat hair at the most inopportune hours. And the first cat at his disposal happens to be Mrs. Norris, who's absolutely not cooperative! If you happen to see Severus stumble unexpectedly in the corridors, no need to wonder why—Mrs. Norris is never far off."

"Merlin," Harry said, his eyes wild. "Cat fur? I thought he was joking…"

"Oh, Severus never jokes when it comes to potions."

"I really hope so, because he's talked about cat eyes as well," Harry grimaced.

"Eyes, hmm?" McGonagall said, her own eyes sparkling. "In that case, perhaps it'd be best if we review a few survival techniques, what say you?"

"You mean in my other form?"

The professor smiled again, before changing into the tabby cat.

"Great," Harry said with a big smile before changing in turn.

The word was decidedly much bigger and more exciting from this point of view. Not to mention his keen sense of smell, his feline hearing and…

"Shadow!"

The voice in his head brought him in line. With a leap, McGonagall was off at top speed into the corridor, before rushing up a staircase. Without waiting, Harry followed her, relieved above all else to see his Head of House hadn't gone in the same direction as Mrs. Norris. Stride after stride, he caught up with McGonagall, who was leading the way with a disconcerting agility, before stopping suddenly behind a suit of armor.

"Smell that scent."

Intrigued, Shadow sniffed in the corner. The smell vaguely brought something to mind, but it took the sight of a few red hairs stuck on the armor for him to realize: "Crookshanks!"

"Exactly. This is his favorite place."

Hardly reassured, Shadow glanced quickly around him. There was no trace of Hermione's enormous cat…all the better. He wasn't at all certain that he wanted to meet him in this form.

"Crookshanks will do you no harm. He's very peaceable," McGonagall reassured him, sensing his nervousness. "Follow me."

Determined more than ever not to let himself be outdistanced, Shadow took off after her. Running in the corridors like this was exhilarating, but after having been chased by Loki, it was hard to give himself over completely to the game. Even more so when, just around a corner, he found himself face-to-face with a pair of surprised yellow eyes, only an inch from his nose.

Shadow leapt backward, but the animal opposite didn't retreat, and let out a growl that made all the hair on Shadow's back stand instinctively on end. A cat, he noted as he blinked: a gray cat who didn't seem much more confident than Shadow himself, but who was putting all his courage into assuming a terrifying demeanor. Without great success.

"That's enough. Peace."

The intervention of the Head of Gryffindor was enough to calm the two young cats, who were studying each other distrustfully out of the corner of their eyes.

"It's only Titus, Oscar Bradford's cat. He's very young and won't do anything to you."

Intrigued, Shadow crept closer to see the animal. Oscar Bradford? A Hufflepuff…a bit younger than he was. The cat seemed hardly more combative than his master. Spurred on my curiosity, Shadow stuck his nose into the gray cat's fur, trying to memorize the odor. But if Titus wasn't aggressive, he at least had his dignity: a quick swipe of his paw to Shadow's nose reminded him of his good manners.

"That is not done," McGonagall said with a hint of amusement. "Make his acquaintance first."

Make his acquaintance? With a cat? How to start?

As if in reply, Titus began to circle carefully around him as he meowed softly. Disconcerted, Shadow just watched him, sitting on his hindquarters, his tail wisely curled around him. The other cat sniffed at him from a distance, before flopping to the floor, where he rolled around with an enthusiastic purr.

"I think you've made a friend," McGonagall explained to him, obviously satisfied.

Still wary, Shadow finally crept closer and reached out a cautious paw toward the gray cat, who had stretched out to his full length. Titus definitely didn't seem all that shy, after the initial contact. Emboldened, Shadow inched even closer still to sniff at the cat. An instant later, he found himself pinned to the floor, in a grip that was as quick as it was effective. Wrapping his paws around Shadow's neck, Titus had turned the tables and now pressed him firmly against the corridor tiles. Shadow squinted as he saw the other cat get closer to his jugular, ready to call McGonagall for help, when a raspy tongue licked his jaw with a happy purr.

_Blech._ Cleaning himself by licking had already seemed disgusting enough, but this? How could he get out of this without offending his new friend? And seeing McGonagall's contented look, no help was coming from that direction either.

Gathering his strength, Shadow twisted to evade Titus' grasp, and then sought refuge behind his Head of House. Stunned but relieved, he watched McGonagall politely indicate to the gray cat that the cleaning session was now over. Alone at last, he couldn't help but ask the question. "Are they all like that?"

"Ah well, which would you prefer, Mrs. Norris or Titus?" the tabby replied, amused.

"All right, Titus," Shadow admitted.

"He's a Hufflepuff. Very friendly. Follow me."

Without waiting for an answer, McGonagall took off on her paws again at top speed, zooming through the maze of corridors. His mind put at ease by their friendly encounter, Shadow followed her with less anxiety. Before he had time to realize where they were, the Fat Lady's portrait had opened to let them inside. Without a password, he realized. That was a good thing to know…

Without a sound and with extreme discretion, the tabby entered the room, inspiring Shadow to do the same. Climbing nimbly up the edge of a tapestry, they quickly found themselves perched up high with an unobstructed view of the Gryffindor Common Room. Walking along a curtain rod as if it were a bridge, McGonagall went just as far as the tables where a few Gryffindors were working. Shadow followed her with careful steps, uncertain of his balance. But what he saw below made him forget his vertigo. Ron and Neville were there, playing a game of chess beside the fire. And they hadn't even noticed them, absorbed by their game…and their conversation.

"I still can't get over that he even dared," Ron grumbled.

"He was really the last person I would've expected to make such a blunder," Neville agreed, concentrating on his pieces.

"It was more a bout of hysteria than a blunder. I've never seen Malfoy so furious."

"I almost felt sorry for him," Neville confessed. "I honestly thought Professor Snape was going to kill him on the spot."

"Merlin, I don't have a lot of sympathy for Snape in the classroom, but I have to say I almost felt sorry for him as well. If there was anyone who didn't know about what's up with his powers, that's over with now. I wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy's back in his dungeon right now, for having made such a scene," Ron laughed softly.

"Still, it must be hard for him," Neville said as he moved a pawn. "He can't even work with the people in his House anymore; he'll be forced to stay in the staff lounge." He shuddered. "I'd prefer to take my chance with the Slytherins."

"He really seemed upset," Ron agreed. "I'm curious to see what Harry'll have to say. I'm sure something happened."

"He had good intentions; that's the worst of it."

"Deep down, it's rather logical," Ron said with a shrug. "Malfoy wanting to do something to help him? It had to end in catastrophe."

"I think he learnt his lesson," Neville smiled. "How many moves until check and mate?"

"Three, basically."

"Forfeit," Neville sighed. "Anyway, we have to go—time for History of Magic."

"I'm sure Binns won't notice if we don't go," Ron grunted.

"Maybe not Binns, but Hermione…"

That threat was enough, and the boys put away the chess pieces before heading for the door.

Frustrated, Shadow stayed on his perch for a moment, flicking his tail. He'd understood that he wasn't supposed to give away his presence just then, but his two friends' conversation had intrigued him to the max. So what had Malfoy done in Potions class? Obviously, he'd managed to upset Snape, which was a good thing. Or not. Now he burned with the desire to find the Man In Black, but he knew that it wasn't time yet. Patience…

Beside him, the tabby let out a little meow to call him back to reality.

"Be careful you don't fall from here. But it's a good place from which to watch discreetly," she let him know.

A bit too much so for Shadow's taste. How many times had the Head of Gryffindor spied on her students this way, him in particular? McGonagall, though, didn't seem to notice his sudden change in mood.

"And don't scratch the curtains or tapestries," she went on. "Shapen your claws on trees, or Severus' furniture. To jump down, pick out something soft."

Showing by example, she jettisoned herself gracefully onto one of the stuffed armchairs sitting opposite the fireplace. After an instant's hesitation, Shadow followed her, convinced he was going to break his neck…but there was no way he'd show himself a coward in front of McGonagall, though. To his great surprise, he landed softly on the cushion, before dashing off after the tabby again.

For a witch of her advanced age, McGonagall's vitality was definitely rather impressive, he groaned as he almost lost sight of her again. When she finally left him an hour later to go back to her classroom, Shadow had learnt more than one thing.

The first was that a cat's muscles could be especially painful after an hour of intensive exercise. The second was that he should in no way underestimate his Head of House. He'd also learnt how to wind through people's legs without getting stepped on, and in addition, how to make them stumble, which seemed to be one of Mrs. Norris' favorite tricks.

Seen from the size of a cat, Hogwarts held even more hiding places, and McGonagall had been delighted to reveal them to him. Picking out scents had become child's play, but for now he had a few worries over pinpointing the noises around him. Knowing Mrs. Norris was on the prowl should've sufficed to motivate him to keep up his guard, he thought as he headed back to Snape's rooms.

At this hour, the students were still in class, and it was easier to distinguish between Hogwarts' little sounds. A creaking suit of armor, the cracking of wooden stairs, laughter afar off, a breath behind him…

A breath! Shadow turned, ready to stand up to Mrs. Norris, or, more usual these days, to Loki. But what he saw left him momentarily disconcerted. Opposite him was a cat that looked amazingly like himself—black, with a pair of piercing green eyes that were brimming with fury. Before he had time to take a better look, the beast had jumped on him, landing a violent swipe of his paws on Shadow's shoulder. McGonagall had taught him many things, but not how to defend himself when faced with a furious cat. Not waiting any longer, he changed form. But as he felt his body try to stretch and take his human shape, his adversary jumped on him once again, this time cutting his nose. Taken by surprise, Shadow fell onto his four paws.

Four paws…that wasn't good. Heart pounding, Harry went for his second option: flight. He'd just failed at transforming, and he was at the mercy of an enraged cat, and of course, no Mrs. Norris around to arbitrate the conflict. Fighting panic, he ran with all his might towards Snape's rooms. Adrenalin refueling his strength, it was just a short distance onward until he came out in front of the professor's door As if regretful, his pursuer abandoned his path, clearly not inclined to face the owner of the place.

Relieved and pathetic, Shadow slipped into the rooms.

"There you are," the familiar voice greeted him. Relief wiping away the rest of his distress, the black cat literally threw himself towards the voice, landing clumsily on the Man In Black's thick robes.

"Shadow? But what…" Leaving his question hanging, Severus raised his wand and performed a brief diagnostic. Simple scratches… An Accio later and with a bitter sensation of déjà vu, he'd dabbed the cat's wounds with disinfectant and healing salve. It would seem, though, that these wounds had been inflicted by another cat—that was already reassuring. But seeing Shadow's state, his head buried in his robes and his heart racing, Snape knew there was something else afoot.

Still with the cat in his arms, he began to pace the room, murmuring comforting words. It took several minutes before Shadow finally relaxed and jumped to the floor, seeming exasperated. A second later, it was a boy standing in front of him, who then collapsed into a chair with a sigh of relief.

"I did it! Merlin, I did it!"

Lifting an ironic eyebrow, Severus took a step forward.

"Did what, then? Survived your first cat fight? Destroyed all the Gryffindor curtains?"

"You've seen McGonagall?" Harry asked without making a move to sit up.

"I came across her in the corridors; she told me you'd had an interesting lesson."

"Yeah. Very. Interesting, exhausting, all of that. But I would've liked if she'd got to the essentials more quickly."

"Meaning?"

"Cat fights," Harry said with a groan. "A horrible black cat attacked me in the corridor, just opposite the Slytherin Common Room. But that's not really the problem. I mean yes, it's the problem. I couldn't defend myself. But that isn't the most serious part; I couldn't transform either! He jumped on me, I was confused and…I couldn't do it. It was horrible, Severus. I don't know what to do."

With a sigh, Severus went for the first armchair and took a seat.

"There's nothing horrible in that, stupid child. Haven't I already warned you that Animagus transformations take months, sometimes years, to master?"

"But I'm already an Animagus," Harry protested. "And I thought I was done with this problem."

"You master transformations perfectly under normal circumstances, which is already an excellent thing. You've yet to master them equally in stressful moments, such as this one. Everything cannot work well straight away. You must continue to practice, like everything else. There's nothing worrisome about that."

"_I_ think there is," the boy sighed. "It's at moments like these that I need to be able to transform on the spot."

Severus put a hand on Harry's knee. "We'll work on it. On that and other things. We'll begin practicing again today; I hope Minerva didn't wear you out."

"No," Harry lied as he straightened up. "In top form. You could just skip the warm-up."

"I see," Severus said with a slight smile, before handing him a phial. "Swallow this."

For an instant, the boy thought of asking what it contained, but deciding that he was risking upsetting his father, he drank it without comment. Beside him, Snape did the same, even though his potion looked different. Unable to resist, Harry got up to take a better look.

"What's that for?"

Severus rolled his eyes.

"Ten seconds too late. Progress. The potion you drank will allow you to concentrate better and focus your powers. No side-effects."

"No, I was talking about yours," Harry replied, irritated.

"Hmm. Nothing very important. A fortifying tonic."

"Oh." The conversation he'd eavesdropped on in the Gryffindor Common Room came back to Harry's mind. "How did your Potions class go?"

Nothing in the man's body language betrayed his tension, but Harry felt it in spite of everything.

"Like a joint Gryffindor-Slytherin class. Well, put on your most practical exercise clothes. And take your cloak; we're going to go for a walk on the moors."

Frustrated, but not wanting to push the matter, the boy nodded. He'd have plenty of time to ask Ron this evening. A moment later, he was back in a new outfit, the cloak on his shoulders still smelling like Madam Malkin's shop. Harry noted Severus' satisfied nod when he saw him, and couldn't help but smile. He'd missed these little moments. Vernon had worn the same expression when Dudley had got his new uniform, and…

Dudley. He didn't want to think about him. Dudley and his little friend, Dudley who wanted to know more about wizards, Dudley who maybe would've ended up becoming a real member of his family, if only…

A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts.

"Are you ready?"

Harry could sense Severus' concern, but surprisingly, the man didn't ask any questions.

"Yeah. Do we have to take the Floo?" he asked apprehensively.

"No need, we'll keep ourselves close to Hogwarts this time."

"In that case, can I cross the castle in my other form?"

Snape hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "I understand that amuses you, but it would be good for people to see you walking about in your normal form. Certain of them might start to think you're hiding yourself."

"That has nothing to do with it," Harry protested, "it's just…oh, all right. I suppose for this once…"

But whatever he might've said, the boy realized as he headed for the great doors that it wasn't without a measure of nervousness that he navigated the familiar corridors on two legs. Despite Snape's presence, he couldn't help but glance quickly behind him, searching for an invisible enemy and trying to sniff out a threat. Unsuccessfully.

"Relax," Snape said softly as they crossed the entrance hall. "Nothing will happen to you."

That was evident. But the tension in his shoulders didn't go away, even after Dean and Seamus waved at him, and a dozen Hufflepuffs shot him encouraging smiles. It was only once they were outside the stone walls that Harry relaxed at last, refusing to look behind him one last time. Beside him, he could sense that Snape was bothered, but once again, he didn't say a word.

Yet, as they walked alongside the lake, the boy noticed the faraway look in his father's eyes as he viewed the slippery shore. The memory came quickly back to Harry.

"It was here McGonagall took the photo!" he exclaimed. "The one with my mother, when she pushed you into the water."

Severus smiled gently, his tender expression making him seem ten years younger.

"Exactly. I often came to study here, under this tree, for some peace. Lily knew it and joined me when she could. When we'd finish studying, we had a habit of walking on the shore a bit and talking about our day. Or more precisely, Lily talked about her day and I listened," he smiled.

"She talked a lot?" Harry asked.

"What do you expect? She was a girl," Severus replied. "As for me, I've never been very talkative, and Lily had no objections to making up for my lack of conversation. Of course, when I started to associate with people she didn't approve of…and vice-versa…those conversations became more strained."

"You criticized her? For going out with my father?"

"Evidently. I don't see anything surprising about that. From an objective point of view, and in hindsight, she certainly had better arguments than I concerning my associations. But at the time, your father and his friends were far from model students."

"I know," Harry said soberly. "But when the two of you got along, what did you talk about?"

"Everything, actually. At first, all our little discoveries, then of what we'd learnt in Potions and Charms. She was very gifted. She talked to me about her family as well, the books she'd read. We missed music during the school year. Lily was mad about Muggle rock. She had an entire collection of records that we listened to on a continuous loop during the summer."

"And I'm sure you hated them," Harry teased.

"You're wrong. Actually it was a shared interest. I simply didn't have the means of buying a turntable. I kept all your mother's records; you could listen to them at the house. These are old classics, but rather outdated, I think."

"I saw them," the boy recalled. "There were a lot of records that I know as well. Actually, there were some I really like. Led Zeppelin, for example. They're really good."

Severus gave a start, but didn't answer.

"And what was her favorite song?" Harry went on, unable to let go of the subject. It was the first time someone had really agreed to talk to him about his mother when she'd been his age…a thought that was both difficult to imagine and fascinating at the same time.

"Actually she had several," Severus replied. "She had a song for every occasion; she especially liked to dig into the Beatles. When she needed help, she'd come looking for me, singing 'Help'. 'Let It Be' she kept for times when she was depressed, but she didn't need any particular reason to go on and on about 'Penny Lane' and 'Imagine'. In general, she liked catchy tunes."

"But there was one she liked best," Harry insisted. "There's always one, especially when it comes to girls."

Snape smiled a bit sadly. "I suppose that would be 'Over the Rainbow.'"

"That's a good choice. That said, I never did get to see the end of the film; the Dursleys hated that Dudley watched it; they always found a reason to turn it off in the middle."

"The film?" Snape asked, intrigued.

"The 'Wizard of Oz'. That's where the song comes from."

"That's right," the wizard murmured, his eyes distant. "I remember. Lily adored it, obviously. She never missed a showing of it."

"So how does it end?" Harry asked, happy for the information.

"Well, as you might suspect. Dorothy goes home, and all of the characters get what they wished for…in a way. The film's theme was very moralistic."

"It's a child's film," Harry said with a shrug. "So what did the famous wizard of Oz look like? Was he a great wizard?"

"He wasn't a wizard at all. The man was a complete imposter, a coward and a manipulator. Which clearly didn't keep him from being forgiven. He managed to pull off a trick to…" Snape stopped a moment to think. "In fact, I think this Oz would've made an excellent Slytherin. So it's logical he won through in the end."

Harry couldn't help but burst out in laughter. "I'll have to see it!"

He stared at Severus, trying to figure out how the man was taking this plunge into the past. He was nostalgic, Harry noted, but there was a gentleness about from him just now that was rare for his father.

"And her books?" Harry went on then. "I saw she read Shakespeare. Very classic."

"Your mother was a great romantic," Snape grimaced. "She never got enough of sentimental stories, and she knew all of Shakespeare by heart, of course."

"I bet 'Romeo and Juliet' was her favorite."

"Well, no," Severus smiled. "It was 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. In fact, she thought 'Romeo and Juliet' particularly stupid."

"And you?"

"I don't care for Shakespeare," the professor said soberly. "We never had the same tastes in reading, outside of magical subjects. Our only common reference point was 'The Lord of the Rings.'"

Harry let out a genuine laugh again. "You like that? Stories about hobbits, elves and magicians?"

"Why not?" Snape retorted. "What's more, the Dark Lord is defeated at the end. I find that a sufficient selling point in and of itself."

The sound of Harry's laughter was sweet to his ears. In the end, it'd taken little to distract the boy from his anxieties. Of course, there was no need to tell him that Lily had gone on and on about 'Honesty' when their relationship had begun to change. Nor that he himself had given her a cassette of 'Wild World' shortly before her marriage. Even less that they'd kissed for the first time to the sound of 'Just the Way You Are,' and that he'd listened to 'Highway to Hell' a bit too often for his own tastes, after their breakup.

No, Harry didn't need to know all that, no more than he needed to know that Severus had thought he was going mad from listening to 'Stairway to Heaven' after Lily's death.

The boy, though, seemed to sense the change in mood, and turned toward him with a frown.

"We're here," Snape announced, gesturing toward the hills with his chin. "You'll be able to train here without the risk of causing damage. No creatures venture out here, aside from Hagrid, and he's been alerted to our presence."

"I really have to go visit him," Harry reproached himself. "I haven't even stopped by to say hello."

"Yes, you have, you remember? We were the very first to see him again," Snape said sarcastically. "You're not going to see him on your own. I don't trust him just now."

"Hagrid isn't dangerous," Harry protested strongly. "He just makes…weird choices sometimes."

"Wonderful euphemism. But as long as Loki is around, it would be too risky. Hagrid is completely mad when it comes to that dog."

"He's not a dog," the boy sighed, "but I understand what you mean. Couldn't he come for supper one evening, in that case?"

Severus made a face. "We'll see."

He was grateful to be spared addressing the subject further by their arrival at the middle of the moor. A quick spell confirmed that the place was deserted; he turned to Harry.

"Good. To start, I'd like you to truly focus yourself. Consider the countryside around you, identify all the elements of it so nothing will distract you. What do you sense?"

For an instant, Harry was tempted to sniff at the wind, but he realized in time that Snape was talking about magic. Closing his eyes, he did what Snape told him, and sought out the traces around him. Unsurprisingly, he could sense the waves of magic coming from behind him, from the direction of Hogwarts, as well as faint traces around him, but nothing specific outside of Severus.

"Hogwarts behind, and us," he summarized.

"Good. Now, sense your own magic."

This exercise was more difficult, and Harry hadn't ever practiced it before. Closing his eyes again, he tried to reach inward and make contact with his powers. At first it was only an impression, like a humming; then a blend of vivid colors appeared to him, shooting through his veins and radiating out around him.

A mixture was bubbling, he realized, colors seemed to burst in every direction, merging one moment, clashing the next…everything was confused and violent, and didn't appear to be under any control. Flustered, he opened his eyes again and focused on Severus. Was it the same for him? Trying his best, he searched unsuccessfully, at first, through the energy emanating from the man. Then he felt as if a dam gave gracefully away, and without him knowing how, the colors flashed before his eyes again. Rather, one color. He wouldn't have known how to describe it, but this time it wasn't a violent maelstrom of energy. No, Severus' powers were calm, disciplined, and swirling peacefully within him…and around him.

Harry blinked. What exactly was he seeing? A second later, the colors had disappeared and only Severus' silhouette and the moor around him remained.

"Well?" the professor asked.

"That was…wow. Like I'd taken LSD."

"Pardon me?

"LSD. It's a Muggle drug," Harry explained.

"I understood that, thank you. I was simply wondering on which occasion you could've tried that substance," Snape retorted.

"None," the boy hurried to reply. "It's just what I read about it—the colors and all that. I felt like I'd…uh, well, you understand."

"I suppose," Snape agreed. Should the opportunity arise one day, he'd have to have Harry listen to 'Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds. Maybe…maybe not. "And what do you conclude from this?"

"That our powers are very different. Yours—or your energy, I don't know—are much calmer. And they work together as, uh, a group, I'd say. Mine are an all-out storm, and they seem to be fighting each other…I'm explaining this badly," Harry apologized.

"No, it's quite clear and very accurate. Your powers are disturbed right now, which is entirely normal. Absorbing Voldemort's powers, as well as the psychological shocks you've sustained recently, have disturbed your magical energy. Now it's a matter of channeling and disciplining them. Does that seem logical to you?"

"Yeah, totally," Harry murmured. "What happens when I use my powers? The colors I saw, they…keep, uh, fighting?"

"That's what produces the various effects you're able to see with your spells," Snape agreed. "Our goal will be to unify these energies so as to better control them, which is, in fact, one and the same thing."

"All right, that makes my head hurt," Harry moaned. "Where should I start?"

"Something simple. An Accio would be the very thing you need."

"Using what?"

Severus casually threw an empty phial into the grass. "Try that. Gently."

Focusing to limit the impact of the spell, Harry muttered the incantation. The phial came to rest in his hand with a satisfying and controlled force.

"Good," Snape said approvingly. "Do you recall the green trunk sitting in the entryway of my rooms?"

"Yes," Harry replied, intrigued.

"Summon it."

"From here? But it's miles away, and in Hogwarts. It's impossible…"

"Try," Severus replied calmly.

It was stupid, Harry thought, no one could do such a thing. But the professor certainly had something in mind, so…

"_Accio _green trunk!" he shouted, doing his best to concentrate on an image of the trunk.

A few seconds later, Harry's eyes widened as a whistling sound came from the direction of Hogwarts; he had just enough time to duck to avoid the chest sailing toward him with the speed of a small airplane. The bulky object crashed into the grass with a loud thud, and Harry turned around, both dismayed and frightened.

"Is that the trunk?" he asked stupidly.

"No, Potter, it's an owl that transformed itself to make you happy. Obviously, it's the trunk. Rather satisfying—controlling the force of an Accio at that distance was no easy task."

"I didn't really believe it," Harry confessed. "And now?"

"Now we'll take up again what we did at the Manor. Try to vary the intensity of your Lumos by aiming at that shrub."

A quarter-hour later, Harry was content when he finally got Severus' approving nod, indicating that he'd passed the exercise. Controlling the intensity of a spell with all these new powers was much more complicated than it'd been before. And the shrub, now as transparent as if it were glass, was there as a witness that this intensity could change a perfectly harmless spell into something unexpected and potentially dangerous.

"Am I going to have to test all the spells like that?" he asked resignedly.

"That would certainly be wise," Snape agreed. "Above all it's important that you control your powers well. Next time, we'll work on progressively extending the range of action of this spell."

"I hadn't thought of that. Can everyone do that? I mean, vary the range of a spell?"

"Not many people bother with that sort of detail. In truth, for most wizards, the variation would be minimal, and happens unconsciously when they incant. But in your case, we can't leave anything to chance. You must master all aspects of a spell. Now, something of a more offensive nature. Like the last time, I'll cast a Patronus shape and you'll have to stop it. Ready?"

Harry nodded, and without delay, Snape made a large, ghost-like dog surge from his wand; it began to run around them. First gently, then more and more aggressively, the boy undertook to hold back the specter as Severus watched attentively. Even if the professor let nothing show, Harry still felt intimidated, which only reinforced his determination to pass each exercise.

When Snape again signaled the end of the exercise, Harry felt heartened and calmer than he'd been when they'd arrived. Closing his eyes, he tried again to sense his powers.

The image took a while to appear, but it ended by bursting again into his mind, showing that array of colors streaming within him. But it seemed the different colors were fighting less now, content with bumping slightly into each other, at places intermingling.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to Severus. "It's better," he said. "My powers. I don't know how to explain."

"They're more orderly, I presume," Snape said for him. "That's an excellent thing. You'll feel less apprehensive with these conditions; these exercises will have to be repeated as often as possible. But now we're going to try something else."

With a flick of his wand, Severus sent the trunk Harry had Summoned a little farther away from them.

"I should've suspected it wasn't here for nothing," Harry murmured. "I bet I'm not going to like what's inside."

"Very likely not," Snape admitted. "In fact, this involves a Boggart."

"Bad idea," Harry said quickly, stepping back. "Not now. Really, Severus, this isn't the right time."

"Calm down," the professor said soothingly, "everything will be fine."

"No, you don't understand. Boggarts really have a bad effect on me. They turn into Dementors with me, and I really don't need that right now. Please, I'll prepare myself for the next time, but not today. All right?"

"Harry, this Boggart is much less powerful than you. From this distance, it won't be able to sense your fears, and transform. You, though, can manipulate it to make it become whatever you want."

The boy glanced hesitantly at the trunk. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

"I'll keep it at a distance and won't give it a chance to get near you," Snape promised.

The look that Harry turned toward him—in the space of a second—before quickly glancing elsewhere, was like the thrust of a knife into Severus. Harry didn't trust him. The boy didn't think him capable of restraining the Boggart. Ah well, Harry was wrong, and he was going to prove it to him.

"Ready?" he asked.

Ashamed, Harry nodded.

The boy was asking for forgiveness, Severus realized, and clenched his jaw. "When it comes out of that trunk, I want you to focus on giving it a particular appearance. To start, I suggest Ron Weasley. That shouldn't be difficult."

"Do I have to say 'Riddikulus'?" Harry asked reluctantly.

"Yes. Think beforehand of exactly what you want it to become."

Harry got into position, wand pointed toward the trunk. Snape could see the tension in him, but he nevertheless opened the chest, thus liberating the Boggart, which flitted out in a confused fashion, clearly displeased with how it was being treated. Severus immediately immobilized it and turned toward Harry.

"Now."

_"Riddikulus,"_ the boy murmured in concentration. For an instant, the Boggart's silhouette remained indistinct, before finally changing into a perfect image of the youngest Weasley son.

Surprised, Harry blinked. "That was easy," he announced, his voice heavy with relief.

"Very good. Now someone else. Dumbledore."

The boy nodded and incanted again, with more confidence this time. Unable to move, the creature had no choice but to submit to the spell and fidget in place, trying unsuccessfully to free itself.

When Harry managed two more new transformations, Severus went to him, lowering his voice. "That was very good," he said gravely and softly. "And now, Harry, I want you to go back. I want you to remember this summer and what happened at Privet Drive."

A glint of pain flashed through the boy's eyes as he stared at Severus with a mixture of surprise and betrayal. "What?"

"This summer. And all the ones before it. I want you to remember Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley."

"They're dead," Harry said, looking away. "I don't want to remember. It's not worth it."

"And I think it is," Snape replied. "Vernon. All those times he belittled you, insulted you. Petunia and all the horrible things she told you about your parents. Dead in a car crash. Dudley, who always brought you trouble."

"He wasn't as bad as all that," Harry protested.

"Oh really? And the times your uncle was drunk, when he convinced himself you'd made some mistake so he could take it out on you."

"He was afraid."

"As were you. You were afraid, and you were alone. You were locked in that cupboard and you heard his footsteps as he came…"

"That's enough!" Harry shouted. "What're you playing at?"

Quelling the desire to cut the session short and comfort the boy, Snape went on. It was necessary. He didn't have a choice.

"It's not a game, Harry. Nothing is a game; their deaths excuse nothing. Remember Petunia's expression when she talked about your parents. Remember the night when Vernon came up to your room to tell you that Marge was dead."

Harry was trembling, Severus noticed. And underneath his sleeve, the Mark was throbbing painfully at the flash of anger and emotion that the boy was feeling. He was on the right track… Keeping the hypnotic tone that he'd mastered perfectly, Snape went on.

"Remember all those times when you didn't have the right to play, to eat, to simply be treated like all children have the right to be. Remember."

Given the boy's unfocused eyes and his shaking hands, he was ready.

"Do you see that figure there?" he said, pointing at the Boggart. "It's Vernon. That's him."

Harry looked myopically toward the creature, which quickly took the appearance of his uncle. His face red, the man was hurling insults in his direction, shaking a threatening fist.

"If I lay a hand on you, dirty brat, I'll make it so you'll never dare want to hurt my family! You freak, you don't deserve…"

"Concentrate, Harry. I want you to shut him up," the Potions master whispered.

"_Silencio!"_ the boy shouted, dangerously pale. The Boggart fell quiet, but its lips continued to move.

"Apply yourself. You can do better than that. I can almost hear him."

"_Silencio!"_ Harry bellowed again, his hand shaking as much from anger as from the emotion of the moment.

Surprised, the Boggart suddenly found itself without a mouth, and began to flail its hands as it spun around.

"That's very good," Severus said in a gentler voice. "Look at me. Vernon is no longer there. It's Lucius now. Lucius Malfoy, the one who locked you in that cell and made you live through those horrors."

Cursing himself for what he was doing, Severus turned Harry toward the Boggart again. Unsurprisingly, it had taken the shape of the aristocratic wizard, and sported a small smile full of contempt. Severus again strengthened the spell that immobilized the creature, sensing Harry's energy vibrating around him.

"All that he made you live through, everything that wasn't true…he must not do it again. Fight him, Harry."

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The wand and cane Lucius was holding flew far away from him, but that wasn't satisfactory to Severus.

"No! Really fight him! That won't be enough, Harry. Remember, remember what he did to you. Get angry and put him out of harm's way!"

"_I—Incarcerous_!" Harry shouted then, still without great conviction. His powers helping, the incantation was enough, and the figure found itself imprisoned and immobilized. Severus restrained a sigh and released the Boggart from its bindings. He'd hoped for more, but in spite of everything, he'd sensed the spike in Harry's anger, and that at least was a positive thing.

"That's good," he encouraged Harry. "Loki. Loki is in front of you now. He's tried to kill you over and over; he had Hagrid kidnapped, he hurt Remus Lupin. Because of him, you no longer feel safe at Hogwarts."

And the wolf appeared, very similar to the ghost dog that Snape had conjured earlier.

"Master it, Harry. You can do it; stop him before he hurts someone else."

_"Impedimenta! Animagus revelio!"_

Snape smiled. Harry had reacted quickly this time, and he'd pinpointed Loki's principal flaw: he didn't feel comfortable in his human form. The boy had finally passed into combat mode, his hands no longer shaking. This was perfect.

_"Caput Mortuum!"_

Severus blanched. How…where had Harry learnt this spell? He couldn't have…

His eyes glassy, Loki had been immobilized in front of them. Deeply soulless and with no response.

Swallowing with difficulty, Severus quickly broke the spell before turning once more to the teenager, who was staring wide-eyed at the Boggart. "Harry, it's not Loki anymore. It's Bellatrix. Bellatrix Lestrange. She killed Sirius Black."

There was no need for him to say more. A second afterward, in a whirlwind of cloth and hair, Bellatrix appeared, her eyes madder than ever, her wand raised.

_"Expelliarmus!"_ Harry shouted.

"That's not enough!" Snape roared. "She doesn't need a wand to injure, to kill! Harry, do something!"

He shouldn't have. He knew he shouldn't have pushed the boy to the extreme, not after the events at the Ministry, not after this summer. He sensed the Mark on his arm flare up abruptly, whiting out his vision for an instant, as Harry's rage exploded all at once.

_"Crucio!"_

The curse hit the Boggart with a force that propelled it several feet backward. The air around them sizzled and vibrated like it had on the day Harry had absorbed the Dark Lord's powers; it seemed to Severus that the sky had darkened all of a sudden.

The spell stopped on its own when Bellatrix didn't get up again, and Harry stood there, arms dangling at his sides, his mind blank. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he turned, barely able to recognize the man beside him. As if emerging from a bad dream, he rubbed his eyes. The hand pushed him gently, and he let himself be led to the witch's body lying there on the ground. Severus bent down cautiously, wand in hand, and took her pulse. Then he stood up again, his lips pressed together.

"She's dead, isn't she?" Harry croaked.

"The Boggart is dead, yes," Snape replied tensely.

The boy took a step backward, unable to look away from the body, but refusing to stay near the professor. He'd pushed him to do it, he'd forced him to the wall, he'd provoked this…

"Why?"

Severus sighed, but didn't try to come closer. "There are several things to glean from this lesson. The first is that your powers, given the way you used them, can be a powerful weapon. Fueled by anger, they'll draw from their new source and respond in a heightened manner. Visualize your powers now, Harry, if you will."

Reluctantly setting his vague resentment aside, Harry obeyed. It took him longer this time to manage a clear image, the sound of his pounding heart keeping him from focusing. When the colors finally appeared, he could see that once again they were intermingling, almost woven together to form a powerful current…a somber one, he realized. Even though these colors had no known names, they made Harry think of coagulated blood, of anger, and of death.

Fleeing the vision, he shook his head and turned his reproachful eyes toward Snape.

"Why?" he repeated.

"You must learn to fight," Severus sighed. "You must learn to use this anger against the people who deserve it. I don't want you to be attacked again, captured, tortured, without being able to defend yourself fully. These powers can be a bad thing, but they can first and foremost save your life, Harry. You mustn't hesitate to use them to their full extent in defending yourself. Our world is brutal and sometimes merciless. Neither Lucius Malfoy nor Bellatrix will hesitate for a second. You must not give them that second. You mustn't give Loki that chance again. And the day when you find yourself facing Voldemort, you shouldn't hesitate to make use of the weapons he's given you, and put an end to all this."

"You want to make a murderer out of me," Harry murmured as he looked away.

This time, Severus moved to close the distance between them, gently taking Harry's chin in his hand, forcing the boy to look at him again.

"I want you to live," he said softly. "I don't want to ever go through what happened at the cemetery again. I don't want to lose you."

His ordinarily steady voice shook with an emotion that Harry had rarely heard in it, but it was the waves of sadness and fear coming from the wizard that made the boy smile weakly. That, and the intense love he felt wrap around him, communicated through that hand.

"All right," he murmured weakly. "But I have to say I don't approve of your methods."

The corners of the professor's mouth curled up slightly as he nodded. "That's not really a new thing. The Boggart disapproved as well, I'm afraid."

Harry cast a bleak look at the body that was beginning to lose its shape. "Is it really dead?"

Severus nodded. "Lupin won't be happy."

The boy shook his head. "You should've picked something else…something less…extreme."

But Snape stubbornly shook his head. "Your father didn't have his wand, the night Voldemort attacked your house," he reminded him. "He wasn't even able to try to defend his family. If only he'd had some instinct, or a bit more distrust. I refuse for you to inherit that from him, Harry. I don't want you to take things lightly. Gryffindor courage is one thing, but it must not turn into arrogance or stupidity."

Harry lowered his head, deep in thought. Severus had already told him this—the frustration and incomprehension in his voice expressing how much he held James' carelessness against him. If he'd acted differently, then maybe Lily would still be alive, Harry thought. Perhaps he would've grown up with his mother. And maybe she would've decided to give Snape another chance as well.

The boy turned suddenly to stare at his new father, watching his face as he tried to search his thoughts, but he didn't read any answers there. How many times might Severus himself have imagined this scenario? James sacrificing himself in Lily's place.

Harry shook his head. He still thought Severus' methods had been excessive, but he knew Severus was right. With these new powers of his, the time for carelessness was past, as this was about his magic.

A familiar hand came to rest on his shoulder, gently encouraging him to walk in the direction of Hogwarts.

"That's enough for today. I think the bell for supper has already been rung. I wouldn't want a famished cat coming to steal a chicken leg from my plate."

Thinking back over their day, Harry couldn't help but laugh. Yes, the times when he could use his powers carelessly might well be over, but for the rest of it, though… Oh well, Severus seemed determined to ensure that he enjoy his life in peace and quiet.

With a gruff gesture, he readjusted Harry's cloak so he was properly covered.

"Well, Mister Potter, what would you say to using your powers to protect us from the elements?"

The boy smiled. "It's Potter-Snape," he replied. Then, raising is wand, he said, _"Stupefy!"_

For an instant, it seemed the rain had been suspended in mid-air, just as he'd wished it. Then the sky, which had been dark before, suddenly became white, and a frozen flake landed on his hand.

Flabbergasted, he blinked. No, he hadn't dreamed of… Beside him, Severus let out that soundless laugh of his, his tired face suddenly more relaxed. Large snowflakes fell around them, quickly covering the ground.

"I…did I do that?" Harry asked.

Snape laughed again, squeezing his shoulder. "Remember what happened with _Cave Canem_ when you cast this same spell at the Manor," he said.

Frozen. Oh. Harry glanced guiltily around him. "Is this a problem?"

"Only if you don't like snow," Severus smiled. "Otherwise, this would be a rather fine excuse for a good hot chocolate in front of the fire."

Chocolate? Did he like snow?

A second afterward, a black cat ran across the moor, chasing the snowflakes, all the while jumping at the Man In Black and leaving white marks on his cloak. Laughing softly, Snape watched the animal run everywhere, its fur disheveled. The training session hadn't turned out so badly after all.

A bit farther away, in Hogwarts' highest tower, the Headmaster set down his binoculars as he brushed a few snowflakes from his beard. No, the castle hadn't suddenly been enclosed in a snow globe for children.

But the two wizards he could see on the banks of the lake, one playing in the snow and the other watching fondly, had just made his day feel like Christmas. Smiling, his eyes twinkling more than ever, he turned to Fawkes.

"Sherbet lemon?"

* * *

_Hi all! Here we are again! A fast chapter, thanks to Raewhit who translates faster ( and way better) than google translator! Hugs!_

_It was actually funny to read this chapter again, as the chapter I am currently working on, aka chap 52, mirror this one somehow. Pretty cool to red it in English, too! Oh and by the way, guess what, Shadow has a new Russian translator, long life to her! I hope it will be successful :-) Yeah, I just spent the week boasting about it, as usual ;-) I hope you liked this chapter! I am leaving tomorrow for London, a three days trip, but I'll be back on friday to go on with the new chapter-Snape and Harry in trouble with girls, can you imagine that? ;-p_


	49. Chapter 49 A Little Help From Above

Chapter Forty-nine: A Little Help From Above

Albus Dumbledore wasn't the only one observing the two wizards as they headed toward the castle. A little higher up, three pairs of affectionate eyes were watching them too.

_'He's really incredibly powerful,' Lily said tearfully. "I can't believe our baby's turned into this unbelievable young man.'_

_'And I can't believe Snape treats him like that!' James grumbled. 'He didn't have to push him like he did. There were other ways!'_

_'Severus is doing his best, and it was effective,' the woman pointed out sternly. 'Sometimes Harry needs to be shaken up a bit.'_

_'I'm not convinced of that at all. And you're always defending Snape!'_

_'Stop whining,' Lily groaned as she elbowed her husband. 'Look how cute they are…'_

_'I suppose,' James said hesitantly. Qualifying Snape as cute was still an exaggeration. And the arm around his son's shoulders had a knack of triggering that little prick of jealousy in his stomach that he'd never known how to control. 'Don't you think someone should talk to him? Tell him Harry is allergic to hippogriff milk?'_

_'James, hippogriff milk is only for nursing babies, and I doubt Severus needs to know that.'_

_'Maybe we could still get a bit closer,' James grumbled. 'He's showing him something by the lake, and I'd like to know what.'_

_'Give them a bit of privacy,' Lily said as she leant against him affectionately._

_'It's not like they could see us…and I never have any privacy with my son…'_

_'James, we agreed about this!'_

_'I know, I know,' the ghost sighed. 'At least Sirius got to know him a little.'_

_'Not enough,' his friend grumbled at his side. 'And when I see how he acts with Sniv…Snape, I tell myself that I'm really missing out on something. For Merlin's sake, he's teaching him how to skip pebbles. I'm the one who should've taught him to skip pebbles!'_

_'No, I am!' James protested. 'Snape isn't even doing it right; the action of his wrist is completely…oh. Five skips. All right, that's not so bad, but that's not the right way to do it.'_

_'Severus is very good at it,' Lily said fondly._

_'Not surprising,' Sirius sneered. 'As for the wrist action, he had practice at it…'_

_'Sirius!'_

_'No, I mean…well, he was alone by the lake, looking off into space…I, uh…"_

_'I'm the one who taught him to do it when we were little," Lily said dryly. 'Watch your language, and remember your good resolutions.'_

_'I know, I know,' Sirius sighed. 'It was easier the other day. When Harry wasn't sure about him and all that. I mean, it's still sheer madness that Snape was able to turn Harry around in the space of months and turn himself into a doting father. Hey, what am I saying—he's giving him something to eat now!'_

_'That's a good idea; Harry's too thin, and those cookies are perfect,' Lily pointed out. 'And he's laughing now…he wants to make Severus eat some. Oh, they're chocolate. Sev doesn't like sugar.'_

_'Sev doesn't like sugar,' James mimicked behind her back, rolling his eyes. Lily pretended not to hear him._

_'If someone would've told me that one day I'd find Snape sentimental,' Sirius sneered._

_'That's enough, both of you! He has the right to spoil Harry. He's his son too now.'_

_Sirius grimaced slightly, but James smiled as he observed how devotedly the boy was watching Severus. But that wasn't all of it. He'd known the wizard as a child and as an adult, and never had he seen such an expression on his face. Snape was totally taken with the boy—that much was clear._

_'And to think that only a few months ago, he despised Harry,' he said thoughtfully. 'I understand Harry being fond of an adult, whoever that might be, but for Snape to suddenly turn into a mother hen in three lessons? That's beyond me. Whatever you think, Lily, he's still a bitter person, harsh, unsociable, aggressive—and I'm forgetting the half of it. More than half. No, really, it's beyond me. I'm not complaining, but it's really bizarre, even taking into account his feelings for you, dear. Being alone never seemed to bother him before…'_

_'No, there's nothing surprising about that, in fact,' the woman said. 'Sev never had many friends, nor family deserving of being called as such. He desperately needed someone to love him, and who'd let him love them back. Whether that's Shadow or Harry, it's exactly what he needs. Someone to protect, to devote himself to, someone who'll be completely devoted to him as well. He knows Harry, he knows that he's not faking. Sev needs a cause—and someone— and he's found both of those in Harry.'_

_'My son is not a cause,' James protested. 'If that's how he sees things…'_

_'As usual, you only hear what you want to hear,' Lily sighed. 'Severus will be perfect for Harry. Exclusive and excessive, overbearing and protective. They're the best thing that could've happened to each other.'_

_'I still would've been more perfect for him,' Sirius whined from behind them. 'If only I'd been a bit more careful. Bella always was a bloody bitch!'_

_'And that's exactly why Severus will be perfect,' Lily retorted. 'Sev wouldn't have let down his guard; he would've been content to protect Harry, and he wouldn't have amused himself by playing cat and mouse with a psychopath like an idiotic Gryffindor! Oh, don't make that face at me, Padfoot. Go on, you're a good dog!'_

_'Harrumph. If only I'd…oh look! It's Remus! Our good ol' Remus! Merlin, when's he going to get around to buying some decent clothes?'_

_'Probably when he gets his first paycheck,' James said wisely._

_'He said he'd be starting at the same time as Snape. Snape's started up classes, hasn't he?'_

_'More or less. But his powers seem to be in better shape recently, so I suppose it won't be long before old Sluggy goes home.'_

_'I'd like to hear what they're saying,' Lily confessed. 'Be quiet, you!'_

_Slightly smiling, they moved closer so they could hear better._

"It's snowing," Remus said as he joined Snape and Harry.

"What powers of observation," Severus sneered.

"Isn't it a bit early in the season?" Remus went on, without taking offense.

"It's my fault," Harry admitted. "One of my spells went wrong. But it's rather funny, isn't it?"

"Your lessons seem to be going well," the new Defense professor smiled. Severus narrowed his eyes, seeming to search for sarcasm in his words, but didn't reply.

"Is everything all right? Do you need anything?"

"Everything is under control. We're going back."

"Did people ask questions?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Well, let's just say it's unusual to see snow here in September, but I think the students are more preoccupied with fighting the first snowball battle of the year, than anything else," Remus joked. "You should join them; I seem to have seen Ron Weasley in an unfortunate position as I came along."

Harry looked questioningly at his father, and after a nod from him, ran off like an overexcited ten-year-old.

"Meet me in our rooms," Snape called after him as he disappeared from sight. Then, turning to Lupin, he said, "What does Dumbledore want?"

"Nothing at all; he just sent me to check that everything was all right." Remus took a step to the side, clearly uncomfortable. "And I wanted to speak to you."

"Well, well, then," Severus sneered, "out of earshot of Harry. This is promising."

"Children shouldn't hear everything; you're in a position to know that."

"Let me guess—this is about your degenerate progeny again?"

_'I'm going to bite him,' Sirius swore from between his teeth. 'Poor sod.'_

_'He'll never learn how to be civil,' James sighed. 'I just hope he doesn't influence Harry.'_

"Yes, it's about Loki," Remus replied, making an obvious effort to control himself. "I need help."

"Don't tell me that creature is still on the loose somewhere," Snape growled.

"Merlin, Severus! No, he isn't. Couldn't you just try a bit?"

"Try what? Help your son kill Harry?"

"To make peace, bloody hell, to not spoil everything! You're not the only one who's fond of Harry. I want to protect him too, from Loki and all the rest of it. I didn't think you were the sort of person to refuse an ally," Remus finished gently.

"An ally? With you?" Snape scowled.

"Yes, with me," Lupin said wearily. "Harry loves you, it's clear. But whatever you might want, I doubt he'll turn his back on his old friends because of it…or on his father's friends. Harry isn't like that. He might agree not to speak to me if you ask him not to, but he'll suffer for it."

_'Well said, Moony,' Sirius yapped._

"Not my intention," Severus said curtly.

"He'd be happy to know that we're getting along. That would probably make his life easier," the werewolf argued.

Arms crossed, Snape stared at him without answering.

"And there's something else," Lupin sighed. "Dumbledore. I know he strives for the best. I know he's trying to save the world. But in spite of everything…I'm a father now, and you as well, it seems. I can no longer agree to sacrifice everything for Albus' grand schemes. Loki isn't a pawn…and neither is Harry."

Severus grumbled, but uncrossed his arms. "I cannot say that's without merit," he said. "There are certain things of which I cannot speak—things that do not bode well. Dumbledore isn't the good-natured grandfather that he wants people to see him as. But even if he's fond of Harry, he wouldn't hesitate to endanger his life. And that's not acceptable."

"Entirely in agreement," Remus said approvingly. "And I stand ready to give my life for our boys. I couldn't care less about the greater good. Harry and Loki won't be delivered up as fodder!"

_'Now, that's our Remus,' James said._

_'Always a true Gryffindor!' Sirius added._

Severus studied him for a long moment, his face unreadable. "I will not risk my life for Loki," he finally said. "And if he goes after Harry, he'll die."

"I wasn't expecting anything less," Remus said with a sad smile.

"Nevertheless," Snape went on, "I'm ready to hear the terms of an alliance."

_'Is he a complete idiot? Remus is offering him his friendship!' James grumbled._

_'Sev has some gaps in this area,' Lily laughed. 'But it's the best Moony will get from him.'_

_'Poor, poor Remus,' Sirius moaned._

But Remus seemed both satisfied and relieved, nodding with a slight smile. "I've heard of a potion…a potion that would keep an Animagus from transforming during a certain period."

"Correct. I prepared it not too long ago."

"Perfect. Loki might have need of it."

Snape glanced at him skeptically. "Loki or you?"

Remus eyed him in defeat. "Probably me. I need him to stay in human form for long enough to be able to…communicate with him. The full moon doesn't last long enough. We're not on the same wavelength when he stays in his wolf form."

"Where is he right now?" Severus asked. Lupin looked away, confirming his suspicions.

"With Hagrid. He's trying to…tame him, I suppose."

"On Dumbledore's orders?"

"Obviously."

"So, he doesn't trust you," Snape murmured.

"It's not that! Loki seems to like Hagrid. He agrees to work with him. Albus thinks that's for the best just now."

"Even though he knows perfectly well that you don't agree."

Lupin shrugged. "I doubt our dear Headmaster has really thought of the matter."

"Hmm." After a moment's reflection, Severus tapped his cheek with a finger as he searched Lupin's eyes. "How bad are you at Occlumency?"

"I can defend myself," Remus replied. "Though I'm worthless at Legilimency."

"Doesn't matter. But if Albus can sift through your mind with a single look, our little schemes will be for naught."

"Test me," Remus offered, which Snape didn't waste a moment in doing. Staggering slightly under the attack, the werewolf did his best to block his mind. "Well?" he finally asked.

"Inadequate. You'd probably know how to resist a discreet attempt, but never an outright inquisition. However, if we get to that point, all will have already been lost. I suppose that will have to do."

"We're understood, then?" Remus asked, relieved.

"I don't believe we've discussed the terms of this alliance yet."

_'For heaven's sake, Snape absolutely needs to relax!' Sirius bellowed._

_'So what—Remus is offering to help him—what more does he want?" James asked._

_'Severus isn't an imbecile. He won't agree to undertake a commitment without knowing the exact terms,' Lily said. 'He has good reasons.'_

_'Maybe,' James admitted reluctantly._

"The terms," Remus replied, "are simply to trust each other and keep each other informed of anything that might have to do with the boys' safety. No secrets. And in case of a problem, we have to support each other."

"I cannot promise that," Snape grimaced. "There are certain things about Harry that I cannot divulge."

"Important things?"

"Yes. Extremely."

Lupin grimaced this time. "I suppose I can't do anything about that. The rules apply as far as is humanly possible. I'm not asking you to betray Harry, just…" He shrugged. "…do your best, if you agree."

Snape looked at him even more intently. "You're going to have to work on your Occlumency. Intensely and quickly."

"Understood," Remus agreed. "You can trust me."

"That would be best. I would not accept betrayal."

'_He has a lot of room to talk!' Sirius said indignantly._

_'Shut it, Padfoot,' Lily said tersely. 'Shut it. Now'_

But Remus only shook his head without looking away from the Potions master. What Severus read in his eyes seemed to satisfy him, for an instant later, after having cast a Disillusionment Charm around them, he rolled up his left sleeve.

Stunned for a moment, Remus felt breathless. "No, that's not…that's not possible! Is that…what I think it is?" he murmured.

"What else? It's more distinct every day," Snape said with a bitter smile.

"How? When? It's impossible!"

"I can't explain it all. It's something we both wanted, although unconsciously. Our precious Savior has a possessive streak that he himself must be unaware of."

"But the Mark! It can't… Voldemort! Does he realize this?"

"Apparently yes," Severus sighed. 'I suppose it was inevitable."

"What does Harry think? Merlin, when did this happen?"

"Harry doesn't think anything; he doesn't know about it. The Mark started to change over the course of the summer. It's most likely permanent now."

"Merlin, it's unbelievable," Remus breathed out as he leant back against a tree. "And you say he doesn't know? How can that be? He has to sense a presence, powers, something…"

"He knows he took possession of Voldemort's powers. I assume he attributes all the strange things that happen to him to that fact."

"Does he control the Mark in any way?"

"Alas, yes," Snape grimaced. "He can summon me. He's done it, even here at Hogwarts; he forced me to Apparate—not very pleasant. Very useful, though. Whenever Harry needs me to be there, the Mark lets me know."

"Merlin," Remus repeated, even paler now than usual. "It's not healthy…not healthy at all. You have to talk to him!"

"And tell him what? That in addition to being my son, he's also my master? I doubt that information will be very helpful to him at this point in our relationship," Severus scowled.

"But he has to know—it's too important! He could hurt you, he could…I don't know, but you can't allow him to have this power and tell him nothing."

"Everything is under control, Lupin. And don't even think about breathing a word of this; I have your promise!"

"I won't say anything," Remus said reluctantly. "But you should talk to him. Trust him. Harry needs to know as much as he can so he'll be better able to handle everything that happens to him. If he'd known about more things last year…maybe Sirius would still be here."

_'No use bringing all that up again,' Sirius grunted. 'Merlin, so much wasted time, moaning over my sorry life. All right, it was a great loss for the world, but still…'_

"This is a child," Snape replied, "and as pointed out earlier, children aren't meant to understand everything. He'll be told when the time is right…at the last possible moment."

"Such a responsibility," Remus murmured. "I understand, I understand. I thought things were easy for you, but I suppose they never are for anyone."

"Easy?" Severus exclaimed, stunned. "You were there during the meeting with the Ministry. You know what happened this summer. Merlin, how could you think things were easy? And we've not seen the half of it yet. Harry's a good boy_**, **_and for now it seems easy for him to forgive my past mistakes, but that won't last. I'm taking up classes again tomorrow. I doubt his good humor will last long…"

"He's a teenager; you can't expect he won't protest at every little step along the way," Remus said. "But I think you're worrying for nothing. Harry's very much like his mother. He's always forgiving, really."

Severus let out a small bitter laugh, but had nothing to say.

'_Ouch,' James said. 'That's a bit overstated__**…**__not that I'm complaining, basically, but…'_

_Lily shook her head. 'I don't want to talk about it.'_

_'One can only hope that Harry really is that good-natured,' Sirius said. "I'm rather of Snape's mind. It was all too quick. Harry's bound to lay into him sooner or later__**.'**_

_'Sev will manage, I'm sure,' Lily replied. Her two friends shot her skeptical looks, but didn't reply._

"If he reneges on the adoption, I'll only have myself to blame**. **After all, so far as blood is concerned…he won't ever be truly mine," Severus said.

"Blood's not important at all," Remus said, shaking his head. "Look at Petunia. Look at Loki. He couldn't care less that I'm his…sire. As far as he's concerned, I'm just a wizard like all the others, only interesting during the full moon… And yes, if he could choose, he'd pick Hagrid as his father without even thinking twice."

Once again, Snape stared at him thoughtfully.

"Complicated, isn't it? I couldn't say which situation is worse, Lupin, but one thing is still certain: both have unique benefits we should draw from. Harry chose me, and Loki doesn't have a choice about his heritage. At least we have that going for us—it's up to us now to prove to them that we're their fathers, no matter what. Hopefully it's not too late to claim a place in their lives."

"That's what frightens me," Remus murmured. "That and…You Know Who."

Severus gritted his teeth. "That's another certainty: the sooner we're rid of Voldemort, the sooner we can focus on the real problems."

Remus laughed outright this time. "I'm not certain Albus would approve of our priorities, but…I can only agree. The world is changing quickly, isn't it? I would've never thought, a few months ago…"

"Of being anything but a pawn on Albus' chessboard?"

"That's about it, yes."

The two men studied each other for a moment that seemed frozen in time.

_'He's going to do it,' James murmured excitedly. "Go on, Remus, take the plunge!'_

_'Sev's understood,' Lily said, clinging to her husband's shoulder. 'He's understood they're in the same boat. He's going to do it!'_

_'Merlin, what a pair of clumsy oafs!' Sirius moaned. 'One of them better do something or I'm going to go down there and kick them in the arse.'_

But it was Remus who finally acted first, stretching out a tentative hand towards Snape. The Potions master considered it for a second before at last shaking it as a token of agreement.

By the time Harry finally reached Hogwarts, the snowball fight was at an end, for lack of ammunition. But Remus had been right, he decided, for there seemed to be more snow on Ron than on the ground just then.

"Everything all right? Gryffindor's honor is intact?" Harry smiled.

"I think it'll recover," Hermione laughed, doing her best to brush off her friend. "The battle was short but intense. You really missed it!"

"Sorry, I was just a little ways off. But I can try to make it snow again if you like."

Ron and Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed.

"You…it was you who…oh, Merlin! I didn't know that was possible!" Hermione choked out, trying to keep her voice sufficiently quiet.

"And you can do it again? I owe one or two more to that Slytherin over there," Ron said.

"Um, I'm not sure Severus would like that, actually."

"He can't forbid everything, though!"

"You were training?" Hermione interrupted. "How are you coming along?"

"Rather well, I think. Snape seemed satisfied."

"And you?"

"I don't know. I think mostly I'd prefer not to have these powers, all things considered," Harry sighed.

"Not much choice, huh?" Ron said with a shrug. "Think it's a pretty positive thing in the end, if it makes you able to fight…You Know Who."

"That's the idea, yeah, but…"

"Let's go, everyone in the Hall! Playtime's over, everyone to their tables! This way!" shouted an authoritative voice. Around them, the prefects were busily herding the students back in, all of them more or less covered with snow.

"We're going to have to go," Hermione grimaced. "Harry, have you eaten?"

"No, not yet. But Severus told me to wait for him in our rooms."

"He wants to change you into a house cat or what?" Ron groaned. "You can come and eat with us for once."

"I'll meet you afterward; I suppose he has something he wants to talk to me about. I need to talk to you anyway."

Hermione shot him a questioning look, but McGonagall's arrival cut her questions short.

"Mister Potter-Snape, is your father around?"

"No, Professor, he stayed in the garden to talk with Professor Lupin. I can go look for him if you want me to."

"That won't be necessary. If you see him before I do, just tell him the Headmaster wants to see him in his office as soon as possible."

Harry nodded, caught between worry and pleasure. McGonagall had used his name…and called Snape his father! Someone had asked him where his father was. But being summoned to Dumbledore's office didn't sound like anything good.

Before he had time to resolve the dilemma, though, the witch had gone, leaving behind his two friends, who took off with a wave of wordless goodbye.

_'He's too cute,' Sirius said. 'But just look at him. He's all red!'_

_'And all because Minerva called him by that name,' James said, shaking his head. 'To think that mine wasn't good enough.'_

_'Don't take it that way, James,' Lily scolded him gently, wrapping an arm around his neck. 'But I agree, he's really adorable. And Minerva too, she did that on purpose. I miss our conversations; she's truly an exceptional woman. She babysat Harry several times when he was a baby—a real grandmother!'_

_'Harry would've had a real grandmother, if Snape hadn't…'_

_'Sirius!' Lily shrieked. "I forbid you to say such things! Remember your good resolutions!'_

_'People can change,' James said philosophically. 'Doesn't keep all this from being really frustrating.'_

_'If Sirius hadn't had the great idea of passing through the Veil, we wouldn't even be able to get so close, even less communicate with them,' Lily pointed out. 'That's already a big spot of luck.'_

_'Communicate, communicate…I know Harry has to be allowed to grieve, at the risk of staying stuck in it forever, but still…couldn't we give a little nudge here and there?' Sirius asked. 'All of this isn't going quick enough for me. Snape isn't making a bad job of it, but he's not asking enough questions; he doesn't see what's right there under his enormous nose.'_

_'For Merlin's sake,' Lily sighed. 'But you're not wrong. Maybe we could…push things a bit.'_

_'Hmm, I've nothing against that, but let's go see what's happening there,' James said. 'Look who it is.'_

Left alone, Harry had decided to go back to the dungeons to wait for Snape, before catching up with his friends as quickly as he could. This matter of Malfoy and Potions class had to be resolved…but a movement in a tree stopped him, and the vague sensation of hostile magic coming in his direction made him raise his wand. Not without reason, he saw, noticing Draco's slender figure perched on a branch, his face wearing an expression of pure disgust.

"Well, Malfoy, not even a little snowball to throw?" Harry asked.

"And find myself accused of murdering the Savior? No way," Draco retorted.

"I suppose you already used all your ammunition against my friends anyway, hidden up in your tree."

"I didn't throw a single one, Potter. I'm past the age for such childishness."

"Too old for a snowball fight, but just the right age to take the Mark. Congrats, Malfoy, so mature," Harry said as he walked away.

But he quickly turned around at the sound of a controlled fall to the ground behind his back. Ready for the attack, he brandished his wand, but Malfoy hadn't done the same. The boy stalked toward him, fists clenched and clearly wild with rage as he pushed up his sleeve, and Harry thought for an instant that the pureblood Draco was going to attack him, Muggle-style, with a good left-hook; then he noticed what the boy was trying to show him. The Mark. Red, black in places, and obviously painful, given the trembling of Malfoy's arm. All in all, the scar wasn't all that different from what he'd seen this summer of Severus', when Voldemort had tried to punish him.

"Are you satisfied, Potter? You see it? You see how it burns me, how it's eating away at my arm?"

"You're the one who chose to take it," Harry retorted, sickened. Merlin, he hadn't wanted to see that. Not the symbol, nor the horrible way it was attacking its bearer.

"And I chose to join your side too!" Malfoy shouted. "I was disowned by my own family for that! Because you swore to protect me, because Severus said he'd give me a potion, and all of that for what? That dirty traitor hasn't done anything at all; he's just left me to rot in a dungeon, and now in this school, without a wand or any way to defend myself, with no help! If that's how your side treats its own, I think I've made a terrible mistake, Potter, because you're no better than them!"

Stunned speechless, Harry looked at the bright red Mark on his enemy's arm again…former enemy? And Snape…hadn't done anything? Draco was right on that point; he'd promised him. Was he trying to punish Malfoy? If that were the case, it was excessive, and even if he had to admit that he felt distinctly more reassured to know that his adversary was disarmed, leaving Draco defenseless in the very school where there was a raving wolf who'd already tried to kill him was a bit irresponsible.

He swallowed hard. "I'll talk to Severus."

"Oh, really?" Draco hissed. "You'll talk to him? And tell him what—to lock me up in the dungeons again? I didn't change sides to end up in a worse situation than before, Potter. I want protection, and something for this Mark! If you want my cooperation, that's the least I expect!"

"Your cooperation on what, Malfoy?" Harry asked dryly. "If you have something to offer, then do it. Bargaining won't get you anywhere. Severus and Dumbledore will do the best they can anyway."

"That's really not the impression I've got so far."

"And what exactly were you expecting?" Harry exclaimed, trying to forget the image of the Mark. "You became a turncoat after trying to kill me and make the adoption fail, and you're surprised you weren't welcomed with open arms?"

Draco stared at him, abruptly lowering his sleeve. Something in his expression made Harry more uncomfortable that he wanted to admit.

"Doesn't matter. Forget what I said, Potter. I'll talk to Severus myself when he's finally available."

"That's good, Malfoy," Harry muttered. "I'll talk to him about it. I have to see him anyway."

"You're very pleased with yourself, aren't you? With this entire thing? But you don't see the half of it. You only want to see what suits you, and you're probably making a huge effort not to see the rest of it."

"Still just as pretentious, aren't you?" Harry retorted. "And you, _you know_, of course."

"I know certain things," Draco said pensively. "And I know Severus. Maybe you think you've found the perfect family; you think you'll control everything…but you're wrong. In the end, Snape is still a Slytherin, and you're a Gryffindor. You don't know anything."

Harry sneered, his arms crossed. "Is that all you have to sell, Malfoy? I know Severus better than anyone. This adoption wasn't by chance. Neither is the fact that he doesn't want you."

Draco broke out into a small, bitter smile. "I won't waste time trying to make you open your eyes. You'll see it soon enough, I'm sure. We'll see what's left of your pretty dreams when the time comes…"

Then, not waiting for an answer, he strode off stiffly for the Great Hall. By the stiffness of his shoulders, Harry could guess that he was suffering, and was seized by a new wave of guilt. Malfoy was without a doubt a dirty, rotten snob, but he still didn't deserve this. And it was rather strange that Snape wasn't of the same mind…

_'I'm not proud to hail from the same family as that little snot, but I must say he wasn't wrong,' Sirius said. 'A Slytherin is always a Slytherin.'_

_'That has nothing to do with the matter,' Lily sighed. 'But you're right. Draco had a valid point—Harry tends to idolize Severus too much. Something's bound to go wrong, sooner or later.'_

_'Really, so much worry over little things,' James sighed. Sirius and Lily turned to him in surprise. 'All children idolize their parents, and eventually end up realizing they're human.'_

_'But Harry's already sixteen,' Sirius pointed out. 'A bit late to make the whole connection. That's not good.'_

_'Don't be so sure. They've simply come around to things differently. Harry hated Snape for years; he's seen or imagined all that could be the worst in him.'_

_'But this is different,' Lilly interrupted. 'This is about their relationship now. If he realizes Severus has done something he doesn't approve of, he'll feel betrayed…'_

_'Lily,' James said, holding her to him, 'it's not inevitable that what happened with you will happen again. I hope Snape remembers the lesson, and Harry's different than you and I. This isn't a matter of a friendship or…a love affair. This is a teenager; he's bound to have disagreements with Snape sooner or later, reject him, be cross with him, hate him…and that would be normal. And what's more, there'll be a few hundred students and dozens of professor to confirm it.'_

_Lily raised her misty eyes to her husband. 'You're incredible, you know that?'_

_'You want me to be even more incredible?" he asked with a slight smile._

_'Try again,' Lily teased._

_'I think I could end up liking Snape if he continues to take care of our boy this way…like a good Slytherin,' James said, making a face._

_'Oh Merlin, I'm going to sick up,' Sirius moaned._

_'James Potter, you're the most wonderful father in the world,' Lily said, kissing him. Then, glancing at the entryway where Snape had just stepped through, she added, 'Along with Severus. Both of you are incredible. Who would've thought that two insufferable, arrogant, egocentric boys like you two could turn out so well?'_

_'Flattery will get you nowhere, woman,' James grumbled._

Arriving back at the castle, Severus hesitated for a moment over which direction to take. Harry was probably waiting for him in their rooms, but…something was bothering him more than he wanted to admit, and despite all his good intentions, Lupin wasn't the best person to talk to about it. No, for this, the answers could only come from one person. Sighing, he headed for the Headmaster's office.

"Ah well, it seems that lesson was productive," Dumbledore greeted him. "I especially liked that little refreshing snowfall—one of your ideas, Severus?"

"No at all," the Potions master replied as he settled into a large armchair. "Much too showy. Did you watch the lesson from here?"

"Only the end. I wanted to know where the sudden change in temperature had come from. I trust you, my boy."

"Perhaps you're wrong to," Snape murmured.

"Did something go amiss?" Dumbledore asked, surprised.

"Harry's beginning to master himself better; he also has a better understanding of how his powers function."

"In that case, I don't see what's concerning you."

"Are you familiar with the Caput Mortuum spell?" Severus asked.

The Headmaster paled markedly. "Not from personal experience, but I know its nature, yes. It's what comes closest to the effects of a Dementor's Kiss. An Unforgivable, of course, and not very well-known, thank Merlin."

Snape nodded. "I think I'm safe in assuming that none of our Defense professors have ever taught it, nor spoken of it to students."

"Merlin, indeed I dare hope not. Where are you going with this, Severus?"

"Earlier, I pushed Harry to the limit…I wanted him to use all the spells at his disposal against a Boggart. In a moment of intense rage…he used that spell."

There was a long silence during which the Headmaster walked heavily to a chest; he took out two glasses and a bottle of liqueur. "The possibilities are rather limited," he said at last. "Whether Harry had already heard this spell and tried to reproduce it…or whether it was someone else who spoke through him."

Snape nodded. "Perhaps we were wrong. Maybe his powers are more contaminated with dark magic than we thought. No study has ever been done on this subject."

"No, indeed, but it's difficult to imagine how the simple fact of acquiring new powers could at the same time teach him new spells."

"He didn't know how to perform Animagus transformations before this summer either," Severus pointed out. "There are also other possibilities to consider. He could've drawn from another person's resources without meaning to. He's capable of it."

"The Horcrux," Dumbledore murmured. "His connection to Voldemort. It's not impossible."

"Or my Mark," Snape added.

It seemed as if the Headmaster started. "Is it possible it would allow this sort of transfer?"

"I don't have the slightest idea," Severus confessed. "It never occurred with Voldemort, apparently, but it's reacting now. I know this spell, even though I've never used it. Who knows?"

"There are numerous possibilities," Dumbledore murmured. "Too many for our peace of mind. What do you make of it yourself?"

"As I said, not the slightest idea. None of these choices seem better than the other…and in any case, we'll need to know for certain before attempting anything."

"Harry's powers cannot be taken away except by force, and restraining them will change nothing," Albus pointed out.

"No."

"The Mark cannot be suppressed either. The only possible move in this situation would be to explain everything to Harry, but teaching him to control it wouldn't be easy."

"No," Snape repeated.

"As for the latter solution…we'll have to think about it one day anyway. The Horcrux must be destroyed."

"No."

"Severus…"

"As long as you don't find a solution to destroy it without risking Harry, well, you won't touch him."

"I understand your position. But be reasonable, Severus. If things become complicated one day, if this Horcrux were to keep Harry from living normally, we'll have to resolve ourselves to trying something."

"You'll do nothing without my consent, be clear on that. And you do not have my consent."

The Headmaster let out a sigh as he sat at his desk. "You've never chosen the easy path, my boy. But I have no intention of resorting to such extremes. I doubt anything could be possible without your help now, in any case."

"All that can be done is to wait, I assume," Snape said, clearly on the defensive.

"All will be for the best," Dumbledore smiled. "I know things seem difficult now, but what's most important is that Harry has these powers, and a family. The rest will sort itself out, I'm persuaded."

_'For pity's sake,' James moaned, 'the old man is senile. Since when does Dumbledore babble this sort of nonsense?'_

_'And to Snape, to boot. But look at his face; I'm sure the first thing he'll do after he gets out of there is call St. Mungo's and have the old man committed.'_

_'Having a family certainly didn't help Harry the first time,' Lily sighed._

"If you'll excuse me," Snape said cautiously, "Harry is waiting for me in our rooms."

"Of course, of course. When you've talked over Harry's progress and his impressions, I'd be curious to read your report."

"Understood."

After a few polite niceties, Severus left the office and found himself hesitating in the corridor once again.

_'Remus is the one he should've talked to,' James said. "Someone has to tell him!'_

_'No, James, we mustn't influence him like that. And he won't listen if you're the one to tell him,' Lily wisely pointed out._

_'You, then?'_

_'No, that wouldn't be good.'_

_'Evans is right. He's as stubborn as a mule. We'll have to do it differently. Don't show yourself, but do as I do,' Sirius said. Then, drawing closer to Severus, he began to whisper, 'Go see Remus. Go see Remus. Remus!'_

_'He can't hear you like that, moron,' James muttered._

_'It's Snape. He can hear everything, even in the next world. Stop arguing and follow my lead!'_

_James rolled his eyes, and Lily shrugged, but both followed their friend's advice._

Severus cocked his head to the side, lifting a finger to tap at his cheek in a familiar gesture. Then, in a swirl of black robes, he took off in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

'_Both of you, follow him,' Lily commanded. 'I have to see about something with Harry.'_

Left alone deep in the dungeons, Harry had naturally found his way to his room. His room…just the word alone was something to savor. And this bed that he'd made almost on his own, this chest, the posters that Ron had given him…everything here was absolutely fantastic. _His _room, nobody's but his!

And his clothes—new ones. Harry smoothed a hand over the fabrics, breathed in the nice smell of them…and the books Severus had given him. The trunk he'd found at the Dursleys', with his mother's letters…

'_Open it, Harry. Open it.'_

He should've opened it before, of course. All of it had belonged to his mother, but he wasn't certain he had the courage to do it.

_'Open that trunk, my little lion. You have to do it, it's important…"_

With a sigh, Harry went to kneel in front of the chest, and opened it with a trace of fear. What if the necklace had contaminated it? But nothing happened, and he began to rummage hesitantly through the things packed within. Dresses, scarves, books…all of it giving off a strong odor of dust and staleness. There were also a few loose letters and…a clearly damaged notebook, from which most of the pages seemed to be missing.

His heart pounding, Harry opened it, dreading what he was going to find there.

_23 November 1971_

_It snowed at Hogwarts! It's absolutely magnificent! Sev and I went out after classes to have a snowball battle, but those imbeciles Potter and Black followed us and made all the snow from a tree fall on Severus; he was furious. I managed to calm him down and keep them from following us, but he was in a bad mood all evening. Those boys always have to spoil everything, but tomorrow, Alice and I have planned a trip to the Forbidden Forest to see the unicorns! It's so exciting!_

Snow? Severus? The date…this was Lily's personal diary. Adjusting his glasses, Harry quickly leafed through the notebook. Many pages were missing, and others were scribbled on, erased, illegible. Despite all of this, many entries were still clear, penned in this delicate and elegant handwriting that had been his mother's.

But did he have the right to read it? After all, this was a private diary…but it was also all that he had left of her, he thought. Even if there were something morbid and terribly sad about reading these lines.

He turned a page with reverent caution, taking care not to damage the precious notebook. The dates went on, the years as well…even with just contenting himself with skimming the pages, he could see James Potter's name appear more and more often. He smiled. The notebook definitely covered all of Lily's school years; he was going to have a front row seat to the moment his parents became a couple. Was he really happy about this, though? Stirring up these stories wouldn't do anything to help sort out his relationship with Severus.

A breeze from out of nowhere swept across the room, sending all the papers flying, scattering them on the rug. No, he most definitely shouldn't lose them!

One of the pages, though, took longer to settle down, and he plucked it from the air.

_15 January 1977_

_Sirius is really depressed today. It seems his family hols didn't go well. I know he's always overdoing things at Hogwarts—always wants to be the craftiest, the merriest, the funniest, the most Gryffindor. But behind all that, there are times he's just a melancholy boy. He has good reason for it. I stayed to talk to him when the others were in detention (for once, he managed to escape it!) and what he told me saddened me deeply. Obviously being a pureblood isn't enough to make a family happy or stable._

_His parents are horrible, supporters of that so-called Art that Severus likes so much. And Regulus, Sirius' brother, seems to be following the same path. They don't get along either, even though they were close as children. This rivalry between Houses again…am I the only one who finds it stupid?_

_Anyway, Sirius assured me he doesn't share their viewpoint on Muggle-borns. I told him I didn't doubt it, and that in any case, if one looked carefully, I have wizarding ancestors. I told him the story of our family's necklace, the one I sent to Petunia. He was very interested in the legend and that necklace, and he would've liked to see it, but too late! But as he stressed, this story illustrates so well why these pureblood prejudices are stupid. Magic can decide to skip generations if it likes!_

_I'm really glad I was able to talk with Sirius; he's a brave boy, at heart. If only he, James and Severus…oh, they irritate me. It's too late for this sort of thinking anyway…._

Footsteps sounded in the corridor, then someone knocked at the door.

"Come in."

Snape came to stand near him, casting a disapproving look at the pages scattered around the room. "Were you able to see your friends?"

"Not for long; they went to eat. I'll meet up with them later, if that's all right with you."

_'You were too quick,' Lily said._

_'Remus wasn't there; he's gone to see his hellion of a kid,' Sirius explained. 'Are we interrupting something?'_

_'No. A bit more time would've been…but the most important part is done.'_

"Of course," Severus agreed. "I would prefer, however, that you not tell them about our training session in detail. It's better if certain things remain secret."

"Okay," Harry said regretfully. "Say…I ran into Malfoy earlier. He didn't seem to be doing so well."

"Draco? He wasn't supposed to be outdoors this morning. I suppose I can't hope he'd obey my instructions now, though; I should've expected as much."

"He wasn't doing anything bad. But, um, I think you should talk to him."

Snape lifted an ironic eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"He's not doing well at all, in fact. It's not my problem, but still…his Mark; he doesn't understand why you're not helping him. He says he regrets his choice," Harry finished, making a face.

"The Mark? But…" Snape sighed and ran a hand across his face. "Not dealing with him personally was probably a mistake, it seems. You're right, I'll have to speak to him. This is what must occupy my social calendar this afternoon."

"I sympathize," Harry laughed. "As for me, I think I'll quietly make use of the Gryffindor common room to catch up on my classes."

"And for your work this afternoon, you should detail on parchment all that happened during our session this morning. What you did and what you felt. It'll be important to follow the progression. You'd do well to start a notebook…"

"Speaking of notebooks," Harry said, showing him Lily's, "I started to go through the trunk from the Dursleys'. My mother's private diary was in there."

_'Oh,' James said. 'What a surprise! A private diary!'_

_'Not worth ogling the pages, you little devil,' Lily said, sticking her tongue out at him._

As for Snape, he started, then glanced hesitantly at the parchments. "Anything interesting?"

_'Obviously,' Lily said indignantly. 'It's my diary!'_

"I don't know, I've just started. Did you know my mother got on well with Sirius?"

"Yes," Severus said in a tone of voice intended to be neutral.

"Apparently, she even talked to him about the necklace. To explain how she was descended distantly from a witch. That interested Sirius."

Snape's face became blank.

'_Uh-oh,' Sirius said. 'You never talked to him about it, then? He's going to be jealous.'_

_'It was supposed to be a secret at the time, and I didn't think about it after that,' Lily agreed. 'But that's not what's important. I just hope he'll make the connection…'_

"I see," Severus replied at last. "Might I borrow this letter to duplicate it? I'd like to show it to someone, if you don't mind."

"Who?" Harry asked, reluctant.

"Lupin."

"Oh." The surprise could be read on his face, as well as a hesitant happiness. "All right. Yeah, sure."

With a subtle flick of his wand, the parchment was reproduced, and Severus read it rapidly.

_'Excellent!' Lily exclaimed. "This is perfect, Sev, that's exactly it!'_

"Thank you. You should go to eat now."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I've something pressing to do," Severus said.

"I'll go meet the others, then. See you tonight!"

"If you'd like to sleep up there, let me know," Severus said distractedly as he headed for the door.

"Meow," a black cat answered as it slipped between his legs. Snape smiled as he shook his head. If it weren't for these enigmatic responses, it must be very useful to be a cat sometimes.

Even in the absence of snow, the weather had clearly cooled in the garden. A chilly breeze swept across the moor, and Severus was thankful for his thick black robes as he took the path toward Hagrid's hut.

It didn't take him long to notice the solitary figure watching the hut from a distance.

"Practicing spying, Lupin?" he asked when he joined him.

"I can hardly spy at anything, so long as Loki doesn't trust me," Remus replied bitterly.

"Merlin help us if Hagrid has to take on that role…"

Remus smiled. "Have my talents risen in your estimation by comparison?

"If it must come to that, I'll be forced to reconsider my career plans," Snape sneered. "After all, perhaps Voldemort is still in need of a Potions master…"

"Or a Cat master," Remus said. "Did you come to see Hagrid?"

"No. The chance to make yourself useful has arrived earlier than foreseen I've a few questions to ask you."

"I'm listening," Remus said curiously.

"I know Black's relationship with his brother was strained during their entire time at Hogwarts. I was wondering, though, if they'd ever reconciled at one time or another."

"I think matters got complicated," Remus answered with a shrug. "When Regulus chose to take the Mark, their relationship deteriorated a great deal, no need to say. That's one of the reasons…well…Sirius thought you encouraged Regulus to do it," he confessed.

"He was right," Snape said, unperturbed. "And afterward?"

"Afterward?"

"When Regulus realized his mistake and decided to beat a retreat?"

"Did he do that?" Remus cried out. "I didn't know…did…Merlin, is that why he died?"

"Obviously. There's no 'early retirement' option for Death Eaters."

"Were you…did you…I mean…"

"Encourage him? More or less. Discreetly. But Regulus being an excellent Occlumens, I took the risk. If Black were still alive, he could reproach me for having doubly contributed to the downfall and then the death of his brother. I would've loved having that discussion, by the way. Anyway, I was wondering if the two brothers had reconciled."

Remus took a moment to think. "I had less opportunity to talk to Sirius about that after we left Hogwarts, but it seems to me that though they mightn't have got along, they definitely saw each other again. He didn't speak of it much, simply mentioned their meeting up and their heated conversations. I don't think he knew what really happened to his brother."

"By any chance, would those discussions have been about pureblood and Muggle-born theories?"

"I have no idea," Remus said as he shook his head. "But at the time, that was a major topic of concern. I don't see what could've set them against each other, outside of that and their family.

Frustrated, Severus sighed.

"I know I'm not being much of a help," Remus apologized.

"That's not a novelty. Perhaps someone else could help me. I'll have to go see him anyway, might as well profit from it."

"You're Machiavellian, aren't you?" Lupin sighed.

Snape smiled thinly. "Is that a problem?"

Remus shrugged, laughing softly. "Do you think you could make that potion quickly?"

It was enough for Severus to follow his gaze to know what he meant. A hundred meters in front of them, a wolf and a half-giant were playing like old friends.

"I'll contact you as soon as it's done."

'_There are times when he almost seems civilized,' James pointed out._

_'Almost,' Lily laughed. 'Are you all right, Sirius? You…didn't know about this, did you?'_

_'What do you think, Evans? I always knew. Regulus admired this bloke, can you believe it? Snape's and Lucius' names were all we heard when he came home. But I didn't know Snape had tried to change his mind afterward, though.'_

_'And?' James said carefully._

_'I suppose I should be cross with him,' Sirius replied thoughtfully. 'If it's true, then it's his fault Regulus died. But in a way, it's better like this. That he changed his mind, even if…still, that proves one thing. Snape couldn't care less about people. He doesn't place any value on human lives.'_

_'He just saw things differently at the time,' Lily defended him. 'He regrets it now.'_

_'That's not the impression I got.'_

_James and Lily looked at each other._

_'But it's not important,' Sirius went on. 'That's not what matters anymore. And…I suppose nothing is ever all black or white. Even Snape.'_

Snape rubbed at his arm reflexively. His companion turned, clearly worried.

"He's summoning you?"

The Potions master shrugged. "I don't think so. He's just retaken his human form, and his emotions are stronger."

"As long as he doesn't make you Apparate, I suppose everything's fine."

Severus glanced disdainfully at his neighbor. "Hurry up and get your son on leash, Lupin. Things might be prone to happen quickly."

"What do you mean by that?" Remus asked nervously.

"That this letter could very well change everything," Snape said, tapping the parchment dreamily. "If I'm right…if my theory's correct…then things could very well escalate."

"What're you talking about? Our sons or Voldemort?"

"'Our sons'…Lupin, would it be too much to ask not to pass us off as an old couple on our return? I'm speaking of Voldemort. I must look into this lead, but I have a suspicion that it's not a coincidence. Be ready."

"Useless to ask you anymore about this, I assume," Remus said to him as the former spy headed for the castle.

Snape waved a hand toward him, which left much room for interpretation, and the werewolf shook his head, a slight smile on his face.

Above them, three ghostly figures smiled.

_'I suppose ol' Snape's suspicion is right on,' Sirius said, looking at Lily._

_'With all the signs I left him, he'd better be!' she laughed._

_'Those Horcruxes,' James murmured. 'I know this hunt must be done. But when there's only one left…'_

_All of them fell silent, watching the countryside below them, the beings who lived there, breathing and talking, playing and fighting—without them._

_'There's still one positive thing,' Sirius said at last. 'You're the very picture of health, Lily, and you too, James.'_

_His two companions burst into laughter, looking at each other._

_'It's true,' Lily said, snuggling up to James. 'We're a bit more transparent every day…'_

_'We'll be able to go home soon,' James finished._

* * *

**Hi everyone! Here we are again! Thanks to Raewhit as usual, what would we do without you? ;-) we are getting closer and closer to the last chapter published in French ( I am working on the 52th right now), and then the updates will be less frequent as I am not so fast in writting. Well I do try to be, but... you know, real life happens (that sucks, doesn't it?). About real life, if you've got a cat at home, happy cat-hair month! I swear I could make a second cat just with all the hair she is losing these days! do you know any way to convince a cat not to shred her hair on my cloak and favorite cushion? I guess that's a pretty desperate situation. **

**About this chapter: I've been wanting to write a 'ghost chapter' for some times, it was a bit of a challenge, but worth it in the end. I wanted to write it all from the POV of the three ghost but that as a bit much. If I remember well, next chapter is my personnal challenge for a detective chapter!**

**BTW, as I wanted to follow Aspen's twitts on twitter, I created an account, keinasnape. If there are some people interested, I'll share some news about my fics and translations there!**

**See you soon, then ;-)**


	50. Chapter 50 Black Day

**Chapter Fifty: Black Day**

Snape strode quickly for the castle. He'd put off the visit he'd owed Draco for far too long. From what Harry had said, the boy was wandering around, and could be anywhere, but Draco's options had recently become very limited.

His former friends had made it understood that he was no longer welcome in Slytherin. His betrayal had quickly become known, and despite his Head of House's threats, little incidents continued to crop up wherever Draco was. He wasn't safe in any public place, and his movements had been severely restricted since he'd left the dungeons.

As a result, the new room he'd been assigned in the Hufflepuff corridor was the most likely place to find the boy. Severus took a moment to focus himself, then took a deep breath. This part of it wouldn't be easy—Draco was angry with him. Snape should've come to talk to him and advise him, spend time with him, he knew it. But he'd had little free time lately, and the boy's outburst in Potions class had somewhat cooled Severus' enthusiasm.

But he didn't have a choice now, and it was time to apply himself and address the situation. Severus knocked sharply at the door twice, and a few seconds afterward, a sluggish, familiar voice bade him enter.

Draco was seated at his desk, his face turned toward the window, morosely gazing at the countryside as he rubbed at his forearm. The gesture made Snape's stomach knot painfully.

"We have to talk," Snape began as he drew near to the boy.

"I have nothing to say to you," Draco gritted out from between his teeth, stubbornly turning his back to him. Snape clenched his jaw, trying to contain his irritation. Merlin, he didn't have time for these little games.

"But I do. It would appear there's been a misunderstanding."

"I assume it's your treasured Gryffindor who sent you?"

"Harry told me you were having problems, that's true, but I wanted to talk to you anyway," Snape said calmly. "It's overdue."

"What an honor," the boy sneered. "The Head of Slytherin is granting five minutes of his time to a former student."

"You're not a former student, Draco. The situation is difficult just now, but you're still a part of your House."

"And what's become of fabled Slytherin solidarity? I've not seen much of that lately."

"Give them time. The wind will change, and they'll come running back to you," Severus assured him. "It's only a matter of circumstances. You're not the first one this has happened to."

"I was talking about you, not them," the boy lashed out. "I did everything I could to satisfy you—to help your side—and what did I get in return? You treat me horribly, and don't do anything to help me bear this…" He gestured toward his arm.

"Which is why I mentioned a misunderstanding," Snape sighed. "I had a potion sent to you a few days ago, which should have sufficed, but I assume you didn't receive it. I'm sorry you didn't speak to me about it earlier."

"Sent…you gave it to a Slytherin to bring to me?"

Snape slightly inclined his head, and Draco swore softly. "Merlin, I've chosen a side full of imbeciles."

"Indeed, it wasn't wise on my part; I should've been more careful. In any case, I've given a supply of it to Madam Pomfrey; you must not hesitate to go to her if I'm not available. And for the present, here is a dose," Severus said, placing a phial on the desk.

Draco rushed to grab it, and swallowed it down with a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry you didn't have it sooner," Snape said. "The messenger will be punished, of course."

"And of course you won't tell me their name?"

"No need."

Draco sniggered and shook his head. "I see. That's how things will be now. Treat me like a nobody in class, have potions sent to me rather than give them to me yourself, and don't back me up. Your little Gryffindor has taught you well."

A nobody. Snape almost rolled his eyes. Draco was going to experience considerable difficulty adjusting to his new position, that was for certain; but this wasn't the best time to dwell on adolescent sulking.

"Harry was upset that you're in such a state," the professor pointed out. "He told me he'd talked to you."

"Nothing of much interest, as you suspect. Nothing worth you coming to interrogate me, anyway."

"That wasn't my intention, Draco. Stop being so distrustful; I'm not here to get information from you, or punish you. I simply want to talk with you. I'm not your enemy."

"But you're not my friend anymore either, not since you adopted Harry," the boy murmured.

"Things have changed, but that doesn't mean I'm not here for you."

"Oh, really?" Draco sneered. "You've changed the password to your rooms so I can't get in anymore. You shut me up in a dungeon, then in a lousy room, you don't come to see me, you don't even deliver an essential potion in person, and you're horrible to me in class! Really, I don't know what made me ever think…"

"Horrible? I could've just as easily dumped you headfirst back into that dungeon for what you did," Snape said dryly. "You took part in a murder attempt on the life of Harry Potter, and do you have any idea of the position you put yourself in? This isn't a matter of house rivalry, but of murder!"

"That's going to stick with me for the rest of my life, isn't it?" the boy hissed between his teeth.

"Not if you find a way to redeem yourself. To prove your good faith…and your usefulness. Begging while under the influence of Veritaserum wasn't an example of courage and loyalty, in case you have any doubt about that."

"Uh…" Draco hesitated for a moment before finally asking his question uncertainly. "What exactly did I say?"

Snape shot him a disappointed glance. "The truth. That you were only trying to save yourself, and that you were only acting in your own interests."

"That's not true," the boy murmured. "It wasn't just that. I had to think of them, I had to think of my family."

"Oddly, you didn't mention that fact during your interrogation," Severus pointed out sarcastically.

"Oh well, that's because they didn't ask me the right questions," Draco retorted. "If Father's wrong, if everything goes wrong…they'll need someone to save the family's honor. To save them, maybe."

"Lucius didn't really seem to know about your splendid plan."

"It wasn't a plan. It was…" The boy waved vaguely.

"Inspiration of the moment?" Snape suggested

"Something like that. Disappointed?"

"Coming from a Slytherin? Yes. But on the other hand, hardly surprised. I assume that between the moment when Lucius came to talk to you and when you had to make a decision, you didn't have much time to think. And I repeat—it took courage to do what you did, Draco, and that's why you deserve my consideration. Since you arrived at Hogwarts, I've been able to observe certain qualities of yours, but I wasn't aware of that one until now."

Draco visibly swelled with pride, before dejection once again overtook him. He glanced morosely at the parchment lying on his desk. "Not really. I had time to think and weigh my options beforehand. But when I wanted to talk to Father about them…I just didn't have time. Or the guts. Everything happened so fast, everything went wrong," he said furiously.

"I know," Snape said soothingly. "But even improvised, yours was a good tactic. One thing, however: you must put a bit more conviction into your adoption of your new allies. Now's not the time for half-measures."

"It would be easier if my 'new allies' were a bit more enthusiastic in welcoming me," Draco grumbled. "No one trusts me, except for you. And you're never there."

"Once again, I'll remind you that you took part in a plot to assassinate Harry Potter, only a few days ago. But you can easily prove yourself, Draco; it's up to you."

"How?" the boy asked suspiciously.

"You can contribute to our cause in your own way. Your past could be an asset."

"And play a double agent like you? No way!"

"No one's asking that of you," Snape said, annoyed. "Merlin, as if anyone would think of sending you to spy, but you don't need to. What you already know might be useful to the Order."

"Out of the question. I won't betray my family."

"Do you consider Voldemort as family?"

"I'm not talking about him. He's…it's…but I won't reveal anything about the Manor, or anything about my parents," Draco said firmly.

"There will come a time, however, when you'll have to realize that you can't remain straddled between two brooms," Severus replied dryly. "You can't ask Dumbledore for protection, all the while protecting Death Eater interests."

"You don't understand a thing! If I say anything that might hurt him, he'd take revenge on my parents! No matter if my father disinherits or disowns me, that wouldn't change anything in his eyes! He'd make them pay, even…maybe he'd…"

But Draco was incapable of finishing his sentence, and Snape saw how much difficulty he was having in controlling his emotions. Having a family was definitely not an easy thing.

"He won't have to know, Draco," he said gently.

"Of course he'll know. He's not stupid. Who else could be giving you information?"

"You misunderstand me. You can help me today, by answering certain questions that have nothing to do with the current situation. He'll never know anything about it."

"Questions?" Draco asked suspiciously. "This is just what I thought; you came to get information from me. You'll get none from me, you filthy—"

Before he could finish, Snape had grabbed him by the shirt, and shook him soundly.

"Draco Malfoy, cease this infernal whining immediately! Your years of being a spoilt child are behind you now. If you want to find some semblance of a sane and stable life, you'll have to realize that the world doesn't revolve around you, and quickly! People are no longer at your beck and call; you'll gain nothing by appearing unpleasant and distrustful, and you'll have to earn the respect that people will give you. Show that you're useful, make yourself indispensable, stay in the shadows, and people will come to overlook your past. You're still young, and you've not done anything seriously wrong yet. You can still save your future, Draco. But continue with this attitude, and you'll find yourself alone, on _neither_ side, with _no_ help. Nowadays, no one can allow themselves to do that, and certainly not you. It's up to you to choose, and I cannot do it for you."

Worn out by his outburst, he finally released the boy. When would Draco at last understand that he could no longer allow himself to do things by halves? But the boy had visibly paled, and the message was probably beginning to make its mark.

"Very well, ask your questions," he said at last, to Severus' great relief. "But one favor deserves another. I'm risking a lot here."

"Precisely what I was saying," Snape murmured. "A Slytherin is always a Slytherin. Very well, what is your price?"

"It's that important?" the boy asked with a slight smile. "The stakes have just gone up."

"Don't push my patience, Draco; it's extremely fragile just now."

"As if I didn't know it," Draco said curtly. "All right. I won't be demanding; I simply want to be able to defend myself. I want my wand back."

"Impossible," Severus said firmly.

"That's not fair. I can't protect myself without a wand, and no one will do it for me," Draclo protested. Then, seeing Snape's determination, he added, "Very well, it doesn't have to be mine. Another wand, with restrictions on it, will do. Adequate enough for me to practice for exams and defend myself if needed. That's the minimum!"

"I cannot promise anything, but your request seems reasonable," Severus admitted. "I'll see what I can do."

"Very well," Draco said reluctantly. "Ask your questions."

Taking a deep breath, Snape settled himself a bit more comfortably in his chair. "I'm going to have to ask you to remember old family stories. Stories from your mother's time, of the Black family."

Draco lifted an eyebrow, surprised. It appeared he hadn't expected that. He relaxed noticeably. "Mother often told stories about that. I'm listening."

"Good. Now, Draco, I want you to concentrate on the question I'm going to ask you, and search your memory for the answer using your Legilimency talents."

"You know about that, of course," the boy grimaced.

"Your aunt bragged about it enough. But that's a good thing. Do you feel ready?"

Draco took an instant to relax, preparing his mind for an orderly introspection. At last, he nodded.

"You mother was the cousin of Sirius Black, who was considered by the family to be a traitor," Snape began. The boy nodded, arranging his thoughts. "Sirius Black had a brother, Regulus, who turned to the Dark Lord. But Regulus changed his mind and paid for it with his life."

"I know. Mother talked about it enough," Draco said, making a face.

"Good. Perfect. Did your mother talk to you about that period?"

"More or less. She was very upset by the whole affair. She said Regulus had put our family in danger. That he'd been given a great honor, and that he'd spoiled everything. I never knew exactly what she meant. It was more than the fact of being a Death Eater, in any case. She wanted to remove his name from the Black family tapestry, but Walburga didn't agree."

"So, he hadn't fallen out with his mother?" Snape asked, interested.

"I didn't get that impression. I never knew that woman, obviously."

"Hmmm, another thing: had he reconciled with his brother, Sirius?"

"Yes, that was one of the things that irritated my mother. She suspected him of conspiring with Sirius against the Dark Lord. I didn't get the feeling they had much time to plot, though. Regulus must've died shortly afterward. He probably wasn't discreet enough."

"Do you know if they joined forces, in one way or another? If Sirius Black truly took his little brother under his wing?"

"No idea," Draco replied, shrugging. "I doubt even my mother knew, if that were the case. Why these questions? All this goes back before I was born."

"It's important," Severus insisted. "Focus. What else do you know about Regulus?"

"That he was younger than Sirius. That my mother got on well with him. Bella too. That he didn't go anywhere without his favorite house-elf. That his portrait disappeared."

"Portrait?" Snape interrupted him. "What portrait?"

"All the Blacks have their portrait painted for their seventeenth birthday. Regulus was no exception to the rule, although I suspect Sirius was already in disgrace at the time."

"And where is this portrait now?" Severus asked urgently.

"Are you listening to what I'm saying?" Draco said, annoyed. "It was lost. Several people have looked for it, in vain."

"Evidently," Snape muttered. "You've been very helpful, Draco. Thank you."

"What? That's all? It was hardly worth softening me up for a quarter-hour just to ask me that."

"That wasn't my intention. I simply wanted to talk to you. I must leave you for now, however, but I'll come back. Try not to attract trouble in the foreseeable future, and don't hesitate to come see me if you need anything, understood?"

"Tap at your door, yes, I know," Draco said ironically. "See you later, I guess."

Snape briefly squeezed his shoulder before quickly striding away, leaving the boy pensive and markedly bored.

Then, without wasting time, he took off in a swirl of black robes for the Headmaster's office. With the little he knew about the Black family history, Draco had nevertheless been extremely useful, allowing Snape to confirm his suspicious. There were few people now who seemed in a position to speak of Regulus, and those who could have were dead.

Taking a sudden breath, he stopped short in the middle of the corridor. Even the dead could sometimes be chatty.

"Black," he hissed through his teeth, after making sure no one else was there. "Sirius Black. If you're here, show yourself. It's important."

A few seconds passed without the mongrel showing any signs of life, and Snape flushed in spite of himself, aware of the ridiculousness of the situation. After all, it wasn't as if one could hope the mutt would be of any use. Swearing softly, he strode off again for his destination.

To his great relief, the Headmaster was in his tower, the door swinging quickly open to him.

"Severus," he greeted him, "what can I do for you? Sherbet lemon?"

"No, thank you. I've come to ask a favor concerning…what we're looking for."

"It seems to me that many things could fit that description, but I presume you're speaking about enchanted objects, the destruction of which is essential?" Dumbledore went on.

"Precisely. I might possibly have some new information on that subject."

"Information?" said the Headmaster, new interest alight in his eyes. "I'm listening."

"They're only suspicions…a theory, in fact. But to prove it, I'd need to speak to one of the portraits in your office."

"I see. Which one?"

"Phineas Black," Snape answered laconically.

"A former Slytherin?" Dumbledore said, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Severus rolled his eyes. He truly didn't have the time for this little game.

"Phineas," the Headmaster called, "would you have time to speak with one of our Heads of House?"

The profile in the portrait quickly came to life, casting an annoyed look over the office.

"Give me one good reason why?" he asked icily.

"Severus?" Dumbledore directed him.

"Headmaster," Snape said as he stepped forward, "I would like to ask you a question about one of your descendants."

"I say again: what reason can you give me? You are Head of Slytherin, if I'm not mistaken?"

"That's correct."

"And a half-blood, to boot. Sets a great example."

Snape did the best he could to not let his irritation show. What use in arguing his genealogy with and old, faded portrait? He contented himself with crossing his arms and eyeing the former Headmaster from head to toe, waiting for him to continue.

"Hmm. It would seem that Slytherin House is in better shape than it was during the time of your predecessor," Phineas said at last. "State your request; I don't have time to dawdle."

"Thank you," Snape said. "I would like to know if you have knowledge of a portrait, at Grimmauld Place or elsewhere, which would contain your great-great grandson, Regulus Black?"

"Regulus, is it? Interesting. The great enigma of the Blacks: must he or must he not be stricken from the family tree? I suppose that's hardly of any importance anymore to the living now, though. Ah well, no, young man, to answer your question. I have no knowledge of such a portrait. I know it existed, that being said. Dear Walburga more than sufficiently expressed herself on the subject. Unfortunately, it would appear the canvas was destroyed or lost over time."

"Walburga Black, Regulus' mother?" Severus asked pensively.

"Yes, well, her portrait, to be exact. My great granddaughter is worthy of her blood, but she had a rather hard life at the end, and her portrait has remained a bit bitter over it. However, I regularly visit her at Grimmauld Place, where we have interesting conversations."

"Would she know where her son's portrait is?"

"That's difficult to say. Perhaps."

"Could you ask her about this?"

Phineas' portrait haughtily lifted its nose in the air. "Certainly not. Your mortal troubles and schemes are none of my concern. Leave my great granddaughter out of it."

"It's important, Phineas," Albus insisted. "This information could be vital to our cause."

"Your cause? Saving Mudbloods? I'm leaving, if you'll excuse me."

And without further ceremony, the former Headmaster disappeared from the frame.

"I suppose we'll have to confront the harpy-in-question's portrait," Snape sighed.

"Hopefully my esteemed colleague hasn't already left to warn her not to receive us," Dumbledore pointed out.

"That could be a problem," Severus admitted. "Whatever the case, she won't talk to just anyone. "We'll have to find a spokesman."

"You're thinking of young Malfoy?"

"Hmm, that's a possibility, but I doubt Harry will agree to allow him to enter the house."

"Harry will do what you ask, and you know it," Dumbledore said.

"I prefer not to ask him something of this sort. Better to choose someone from the Order. Preferably a Black. Is Miss Tonks available?"

"We'll have to ask her. If you have a moment?"

"Of course," Snape replied with a sweep of his hand.

The Headmaster walked toward the fireplace, quickly throwing a handful of powder in the grate, only to pull back a few minutes later to let a young woman step through.

"Hullo, everyone!" she cried to those present, remembering to include the portraits with a wave of her hand. "I've been in this office so often recently, I'm going to end up thinking I've misbehaved!"

"For what we have in mind, that would likely be a good thing," Snape pointed out.

"Really? I'll have to pass myself off as a hardened criminal? Play like I've gone round the twist?" Tonks asked, interested.

"Almost. You've going to have to pass yourself off as a Black."

Tonks scowled instantly as she crossed her arms. "Not funny. Do I have to? I'm not sure I can do it."

"Have to, no. But it would be very helpful to us, as part of a very dangerous mission," Dumbledore replied. The young woman's eyes quickly began to glitter.

"All right, go on, explain!"

"You've been to Grimmauld Place before, so you know Walburga Black's portrait."

"The old witch! Yes, I know it, that's my great aunt. Something like that. No one's managed to Incendio that portrait yet, after all this time?"

"I'm afraid it's protected," Dumbledore said. "But that's a good thing, as we'll have time to question her. The problem is that Walburga Black…"

"Will only speak to a worthy descendant of her precious lineage, I know," Tonks went on. "I really want to try, but honestly, I can't guarantee anything. I'm really not right for the job."

"To begin, you'll have to alter your appearance," Severus said. "Your hair. Choose either blond or black."

Tonks rolled her eyes, but quickly made her hair grow as black as her cousins'. She then changed her eyes to a steely gray, and tried to smooth her features as much as she could, giving her nose an aristocratic aspect.

"Will that do?"

"Perfect," Dumbldore agreed. "Let's get down to the matter…Severus?"

The Potions master nodded. "It would seem there was a portrait of Regulus Black. We need to question it, but this painting appears to have disappeared some time ago. It's possible that Mrs. Black knows where it is."

"I see," Tonks murmured. "And what do you want from poor Regulus?"

"No need for you to know," Snape said curtly. "Stick to questioning the portrait."

The young woman shot an exasperated glance at Albus, who eyed her apologetically.

"I'll content myself with being a perfect little Black. Fine."

"Perhaps, though, it'd be best to have an excuse prepared ahead of time," Dumbledore suggested.

"I could say I'm an admirer of my cousin, and I want to hang his painting at my place," Tonks said with a shrug. "I knew Regulus a bit; I must've been six when he died. He visited the house sometimes."

"That's perfect," the Headmaster said approvingly. "If you feel ready, then perhaps we should proceed immediately, before Phineas has too much time to talk to his great granddaughter?"

The two other Order members agreed, and the three of them headed for the Floo to travel to Grimmauld Place. The house was as sinister as ever, but an unusual peace pervaded the place. No meeting there today, Snape reminded himself, and no Sirius Black, of course. He experienced a small twinge of guilt at the relief he felt.

"The portrait is in the hallway," Dumbledore prompted. "Better if Miss Black goes alone."

"I'm on it," the young woman murmured, taking a deep breath. Steeling her features, she left the room, taking care to leave the door ajar.

Unlike her usual behavior, Walburga's portrait didn't take up screaming the moment she saw someone approach, which Severus and Ablus took as a good sign.

"Mrs. Black, please accept my respects," Tonks began, her tone both deferential and haughty, raising her in Snape's estimation.

"Your respects, eh? I seem to have seen your face before, young lady. Introduce yourself!"

"I'm Nymphadora Black, granddaughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Rosier. We're related."

"Nymphadora Black? There is no Nymphadora Black! Don't lie, you little upstart! And who the devil are your parents?"

"My parents are no more important than my birth name. But if you insist, I'm the daughter of Andromeda Black and…I prefer not to speak of it."

"Ah, now we have it," Walburga said triumphantly. "A blood traitor, married to a Mudblood! It's a disgrace—a veritable disgrace for the noble House of Black!"

"Don't talk to me about my parents, I don't want anything to do with them!" Tonks exclaimed icily, impressing Snape even further. He knew of Nymphadora's attachment to her family and its values, and her performance was all the more admirable because of this.

"But here's something interesting," the portrait said sarcastically. "A half-blood in rebellion, isn't that touching!"

"I'm a Black, and I don't want to hear anymore about it," Tonks persisted sulkily. "I intend to take the Mark next month, and the Dark Lord has no complaints about that."

"Hmm," Walburga said thoughtfully. "So what brings you here?"

"Actually, I wanted to consult you," Tonks said, her voice suddenly humble. "No one else is available or…as good at giving advice for this."

"I see. Well, then, don't waste time, state your request!"

Snape couldn't help but smile, inwardly congratulating the young woman.

"As I was saying, I must be Marked next month," Tonks announced. "And the Dark Lord would like me to marry."

"At your age, it would indeed be time," Walburga said dryly.

"That's my opinion too, but up until now, no one with pure enough blood has turned up."

"Well, I don't see who would want a half-blood, were she a Black. Of course, your standards commend you. You'll do well to find a pureblood wizard from a less prominent family."

"But I don't want a wizard from a less prominent family!" Tonks said indignantly. "I only want a Black, or someone of the bloodline."

"My, we're ambitious," the portrait said, amused. "Your pure genes are showing, that's a good thing. Well, it seems Narcissa produced a male heir, but they only have one, and he's a Malfoy; their fortune and their blood…you hardly have a chance. Did Bellatrix manage to procreate at last?"

"No, unfortunately," Tonks replied, appearing annoyed. "And I have to tell you that I have a… well, certain weakness for someone. No, not for a person, since he's no longer of this world, but he's my ideal…"

"Young lady, you're losing yourself in romantic notions that are as stupid as they are old-fashioned," Walburga said. "Be reasonable. Ask the Dark Lord to find you a husband."

"That's exactly what I intend to do. But for that, I want to show him the portrait of the one I love, so he'll understand what my ambitions are."

"So? Do it, then, and stop running in circles, young lady!"

"It's just…this portrait was lost, and I thought that maybe you…you would know where it is. I'd like so, so much to hang it over my fireplace."

"I think I see where you're going with this," Walburga murmured. Which wasn't a moment too soon, Severus thought. "Obviously, my wonderful Regulus…who wouldn't have wanted him? Well, I can't guarantee he would've looked at you; he certainly would've made a good marriage, had he lived, but I'm unable to understand your infatuation."

"It was such a loss," Tonks said furiously. "It was so unfair!"

"I know, I know," the witch sighed, clearly touched. "Such a good boy…"

"And faithful to the cause! From a perfect bloodline. I know you wouldn't have approved, but I still would have taken my chances, Mrs. Black," the young woman said gently.

Even Albus seemed impressed now by her performance. Behind the door, the two men exchanged a look that clearly communicated their thoughts: Nymphadora Tonks would've made a perfect spy.

"Ah well, we'll never know, will we?" Walburga said nostalgically at last. "As for the portrait, well, if you find it, you can keep it. Unfortunately, it has been gone as long as my son has."

"Isn't there any hope? I'm prepared to do anything to find it," Tonks said passionately.

"If I only knew what that bloody elf did with it," growled Mrs. Black. "After my Regulus' death, that creature took the painting and hid it somewhere. He never wanted to tell me where, claiming that Regulus had made him swear to keep it safe. As if it wouldn't have been safe with me! I coaxed the elf, I threatened him to the extreme; nothing worked. He only banged his head against the walls to punish himself, all the while chanting that he was obeying his master. It must be said how committed he was to my son."

"Do you know which elf this was?" Tonks asked. "Perhaps I could question him."

"I doubt he's still alive. I've not seen him in a long time, although I regret it. His name was Kreacher; he was a very loyal elf. I hope his head was hung up on the wall."

"Thank you, Mrs. Black. I'm going to try to find this elf…"

"Do it, then. And if you find my handsome Regulus, well, take care of him. And cherish his memory. You're just a half-blood, but I suppose if a half-blood were to deserve the name of Black, it would be you."

"That's a huge honor coming from you," Tonks said as she bowed. "See you again soon."

And, without waiting further, she returned to the sitting room where the two wizards waited. There was a new respect in their eyes, an acknowledgment of the effort she'd had to expend to carry out the conversation with her relative.

"Never make me do that again," she groaned, resuming her usual appearance.

"Miss Tonks, you were brilliant," Dumbledore congratulated her. "We've taken a spectacular step forward; we owe you a great deal."

"Are you going to tell me why you need that bloody portrait?" she asked.

"No," Severus replied, "only that the reason is extremely important. Even more than you can imagine. You've just given us a valuable weapon against Voldemort."

Tonks' eyes glittered. "You're going to finish off the bastard, eh?"

"That's the idea, yes."

"Need anything else from me?" she asked.

The two men considered each other.

"Kreacher belongs to Harry. I think he's in the best position to get information from him. If he didn't want to give his mistress information, though…" Snape began.

"Oh, I think we can count on our young friend's ingenuity," Dumbledore said. "If you're able, Miss Tonks, stay in the area, but I hope we won't have to ask you for this sort of performance again."

"I hope so too," Tonks said with a shudder. "Can we go? This place gives me goosebumps."

Leaving Walburga Black's unusually quiet portrait behind them, the three of them returned to Hogwarts.'

"If it's all right with everyone, I'm going to make a stop in the library," Tonks announced. "Some research to do. I suppose the Restricted Section shouldn't present a problem?"

"Not at your age, no," Dumbledore chuckled. "However, take this note with you," he said, scribbling a note quickly on a scrap of parchment. "Madam Pince sometimes tends to forget that former students have grown up."

With a wave and a laugh, Tonks took off at a quick pace.

"And now, Harry," Snape said. "He's going to have to find a way to convince that house-elf, one way or another."

"He is indeed the one Harry sent to work in Hogwarts' kitchens at the beginning of term, isn't he?"

"Correct. The little cheat who betrayed his last master. I'm afraid the matter isn't that simple."

"Indeed, confronting him directly probably won't work. Kreacher was obviously attached to his master; that's the angle we'll have to play on," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

"Hmm. What's left of that infamous locket that you destroyed the other day?" Snape asked.

"Don't be modest—the locket that _you_ destroyed. Ah well, it was most likely poorly done on my part, but I didn't have the courage to throw away what remained of the relic."

With a slow gesture, full of distaste and fascination, the Headmaster pulled a small box from a desk drawer. Inside was a white-gold chain, and what was left of the jewel, broken in two pieces now.

"Excellent," Snape murmured. "I think that will suffice. I'm going to get Harry."

It didn't take him long to find the boy, busy at revising an essay. A few minutes later, they were back in the office, and seeming disheartened, Harry studied the locket.

"Oh no, not this thing again."

"Everything will be fine. It's not harmful any longer," Snape reassured him.

"So you say. I don't trust that thing at all."

"Let's just say it now has no magical power," Snape elucidated. "But we'll need it in order to convince Kreacher."

"And on top of it, I'm going to have to see that dirty traitor? This a day for horror films?" the boy protested.

"This is important research on the Horcruxes, and you're going to oblige me by being more cooperative," Snape said dryly. "Things are complicated enough as it is."

"I get it," Harry said reluctantly. "What do I have to do with the worst house-elf in history and an object that used to be cursed?"

"I have a theory," Snape finally said after a moment of hesitation. Harry saw Dumbledore listening closely as well. "I have a feeling that young Regulus had this object in his possession, and he understood what it was. If my theory is correct, he tried to destroy it and, unable to, hid it away."

"Hid it? At the Dursleys'?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Why not? It was truly the last place Voldemort would've looked for it. And like all the family homes of Aurors, it was protected from Death Eaters."

"But in that case, he couldn't have gone back there," Harry pointed out.

"Himself, no, but Kreacher? Or maybe even Sirius."

"That's a possibility," Dumbledore admitted, though seeming hardly convinced.

"It's only an idea, but I'm determined to test it," Snape insisted. "We must speak to Regulus, and it would appear that this house-elf now holds the key to the puzzle. Harry, you'll show him this locket and observe his reaction. Understood?"

The young man shrugged. "Why not?"

"In the face of so much enthusiasm…could you call your elf?" Severus asked.

Harry made a face, but obeyed. "Kreacher!"

The little elf appeared instantly in the office, seeming suspicious and disgruntled.

"The dirty half-blood master has called me?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes. I need you. There's…something you must see."

And, the distaste obvious, he held out the locket to the elf. Kreacher immediately began to shriek and pull out the few hairs sprouting from his balding head.

"The locket! The locket! It's been destroyed; finally, my master succeeded!"

"Yeah, well…" Harry began. A wave from Snape in his direction made him swallow the rest of the sentence. "Yes, I destroyed it. Like your Master Regulus wished," he tried.

With these words, the old house-elf threw himself at Harry, wrapping his little arms around Harry's legs, sobbing heartbreakingly, leaving Harry perfectly astonished.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, Harry Potter is a great wizard! A great wizard! Master Regulus made Kreacher promise to do all he could to destroy the bad locket, and Kreacher couldn't, he couldn't! Kreacher is a bad elf! But now, Harry Potter has done it, and Kreacher can die happy!"

"Yeah, um, well, all that isn't necessary," Harry stammered, struggling to recover from his surprise. "And now that we've accomplished Master Regulus' mission, it's time to let the whole world know what a great wizard he was, right?"

"A great wizard! Oh yes, Harry Potter, my master was a great wizard! All the world must know it!" said the little elf as he jumped in place.

"Perfect," Harry said. "We could, um, I dunno…it's a shame it's too late to have a portrait done."

Kreacher quickly straightened, beaming. "A portrait! Master Harry, there is already a portrait. Master Regulus said to hide the portrait as long as the locket hadn't been destroyed, but Master Harry's done it! He destroyed the cursed locket! Master Regulus can come back; it's a great day!"

The elf disappeared with a _pop_, leaving the three wizards markedly bewildered.

"Ah well, this is interesting," Snape said with a satisfied smile.

"I'll admit I didn't believe it," Harry confessed. "That was really it!"

"We'll wait until we have the portrait to know more, but it seems we're on the right path," Dumbledore said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

It took some long minutes of waiting until the elf finally returned, his hands empty and seeming especially furious.

"Harry Potter, sir! The guardian of the portrait refuses to hand it over; that horrible thing says she must see my new master first. What a horrible, horrible witch! Harry Potter, sir, you must come with me. We must save Master Regulus' portrait!"

"Who is the guardian, Kreacher?" Snape asked as he stepped forward.

The elf eyed him up and down suspiciously.

"This is my father, Kreacher, you can talk to him."

"Is Harry Potter sure?"

"He helped me destroy the locket," Harry assured him.

"Then Kreacher will tell. It is Andromeda Black who has the portrait, Master Harry! But she's called Andromeda Tonks now. Master Regulus trusted her, yes, and he told Kreacher to hide the portrait in a safe place if he died, so Kreacher took it to Andromeda Tonks and told her to keep it, as a matter of life and death. And Andromeda Tonks said all right, Master Harry. But she doesn't want to give it back now!"

The three wizards looked at each other, stunned speechless once again. All this time, the portrait had been at the Tonks'? None of whom had probably even given a thought to the portrait since the time it was entrusted to them.

"We are all going to come, Kreacher," Dumbledore announced. "And we're going to bring back Regulus' portrait."

The little elf's crinkled face lit up at his words, and he came nearer to pat Harry's knee. "Kreacher was wrong. Harry Potter is a good wizard. Yes, a good wizard."

The boy glanced hesitantly at his father, who shrugged. Was this really the same elf who only a few moments before had cursed and called him every name in the book?

Annoyed, Harry patted the elf on the shoulder. "Thanks, Kreacher. You've helped us a great deal. Wait for us here, all right?" he asked, foreseeing trouble if they took the angry elf with them.

"Let's go," Dumbledore ordered, already opening the Floo connection. "Andromeda is waiting."

And, in fact, Nymphadora's mother was standing in her sitting room, noticeably surprised, and with her wand in hand. "Albus, it's you who's behind all this again?" she asked when they'd stepped through to the house.

"Let's say I'm seeking new information, dear friend, and this portrait could be very useful to us."

"It was entrusted to me a very long time ago, at the time of its subject's death," she clarified.

"We know," Dumbledore confirmed. "We need to speak with Regulus."

"But that same Regulus absolutely refused to speak the last time I saw the portrait, and I won't betray its master. He was a good boy, whatever was said of him, and he had good reasons for wanting to hide."

"Indeed, but those reasons are now null and void," the Headmaster said gently. "If you'd allow us to speak to him for a moment and show him an object, he'll tell you so himself."

Andromeda fidgeted for a moment, before finally nodding. "He's a cousin, you understand. Very well, I'll go get it."

She returned a few minutes later, carrying a dusty frame that seemed to have slept beneath a drape for years.

When she removed the covering, the wizard in the frame blinked before glancing around. He looked so much like Sirius that Harry felt his stomach knot. The young man, who wasn't yet seventeen, had been painted at his desk, surrounded by green and silver.

"Regulus Black?" Dumbledore asked, even though there wasn't a doubt who he was.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore!" the portrait said with relief. "Hello. It's a pleasure to see you. Who's that with you?"

Snape and Harry stepped up opposite the painting.

"Severus? Is that really you?"

"In person," Snape said, bowing.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you've…aged. How long have I been behind that curtain?"

"Something like seventeen years."

"Hmm, that explains why you don't look younger… And this young man beside you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself. "Nice to meet you."

"Harry…Potter? James' son?"

"And Lily Evans'," Dumbledore agreed.

"Merlin, time's really flown by. But it's true, you look like your father," Regulus said. "Severus, is…is the Master…?"

"No need to call him that," Snape said with a shake of his head. "Voldemort has returned, yes."

"Returned? So he was defeated?"

"It's a long story, but yes. By this same Harry Potter."

"Merlin, he was vanquished, and has come back. Yes, I was right, then," Regulus muttered.

"Yes, you were right, and we've come to talk about that," Snape agreed.

The portrait instantly became wary. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I told Kreacher, though…but perhaps he's dead now."

"No, he's old, but alive; he belongs to Harry now."

"To Harry? But…that's impossible!" Regulus exclaimed.

"Alas, many things have changed," Dumbledore said, trying to calm him. "But before all that, you must see this."

With a solemn gesture, he brandished the broken locket in front of the painting.

"You've done it," Regulus murmured. "Thank Merlin, you've done it!"

"It was Severus who destroyed it," Dumbledore clarified, which earned him a dark look from Snape.

"Really? So you too, you…?" Regulus murmured.

Snape gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Perhaps we could talk all this over in the peace and quiet of my office?" the Headmaster suggested.

"Yes, of course. If the locket is… Merlin, I'm so relieved! Yes, of course."

"Andromeda, will you permit us to take this portrait?"

"Well, that's for Regulus to decide," the witch said.

"Cousin," Regulus said, "thank you so much for your hospitality and protection. I think it's time for me to be useful again. I'm going to take the Headmaster up on his offer."

"Understood," Andromeda said with a smile. "Good luck, cousin. Nice to see you again."

And with a few polite goodbyes, the little group returned to Hogwarts.

"When I think that the painting was there since the start," Harry murmured. "Right under our noses. This is important, isn't it?"

"Extremely," Snape confirmed. But before he could add anything more, Kreacher had thrown himself to his knees before the portrait, moaning and stammering.

"Master Regulus! Master Regulus! Kreacher did as you asked, but he didn't succeed; the young master did it! Yes, even if he's a half-blood, he did it! And he's brought Master Regulus back to the castle!"

"Thank you, Kreacher. You're a very loyal elf," Regulus said with a surprised smile. "You did very well. We'll have a chance to talk longer, I'm sure."

"Yes, Master Regulus! Kreacher will come back, that's for certain. Oh yes, he'll come back!"

Then, understanding that he'd been thanked, the elf disappeared with a _pop._

Regulus' portrait, seeming all of a sudden fatigued, glanced almost fearfully at Harry. "I have nothing against you, young Harry, half-blood or not, but if you are Kreacher's new master, then…Sirius…my family?"

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said gently. "They're all dead now. Sirius was the last, and he left all that he had to his godson Harry."

Regulus shuddered. "How?"

"Bellatrix," Severus replied laconically.

"That bitch," Regulus huffed. "My dear cousin. She and Sirius were never able to get along. But still…sure, I suppose that between her and her precious Dark Lord, family hardly counted."

"If it's any consolation, I think Bellatrix lost her mind a long time ago," Severus stated. "Her stay in Azkaban mustn't have helped matters."

Regulus tapped the arm of the chair in which he was painted. "So, what happened, then? I always thought you were a loyal Death Eater," he confessed.

"I was," Severus admitted. "Until the time came when I realized it wasn't the wisest choice for…those that I loved."

"It quickly becomes clear, doesn't it?" Regulus scowled. "I suppose it took longer for me to see it than you. It was when he tried to kill my elf that I really understood. Rather stupid, eh, after what he'd done to the rest of my family."

"Better late than never," Dumbledore said gently. "I'm sorry you didn't come to see me, my boy."

"I couldn't risk putting my family in danger," Regulus explained. "Everything had to stay secret. There was only Sirius and Andromeda, and even to them, I didn't tell everything. I couldn't. That locket, the Horcrux…I couldn't implicate them."

"That was wise," Albus agreed. "But why hide the locket at the Dursleys'?"

"Dursleys?" Regulus asked, astonished. "Who are they?"

"Lily Evans' sister, Harry's aunt and uncle," Snape explained.

"But…I did no such thing. I asked Sirius to hide it in a safe place until I found a solution. I didn't tell him exactly what it was. Only that it was important. But I also asked him for another favor. I wanted to examine Lily's necklace, the one she'd talked to Sirius about. So, he exchanged the two, thinking the locket would be safe at the Potters', since they were so well hidden."

"The locket was found at Lily's sister's, not at the Potters'," Albus pointed out.

The portrait shook its head. "No, it was with them. I couldn't tell you why. He entrusted the necklace to me, asking me to take great care with it. I wanted to study its properties; it's an absolutely incredible object; it can detect magic in an infant, even if it's born to Muggle parents. Do you realize what that means? We could single out young wizards, and know if a child born to a wizarding couple was a Squib."

"Why is that important?" Harry asked, uneasy.

"To protect them, of course," Regulus exclaimed.

"Well, if we succeed at what we're after, that won't be necessary any longer," Dumbledore said. "Once and for all, we'll put an end to this madness."

"Where is the necklace now?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Lily's? The last time I saw it, it was still in my room," Regulus replied.

The three wizards looked at each other. No one had ever found that sort of necklace at Grimmauld Place. Who knew what might've become of it?

"Doesn't matter," Harry sighed.

"Let's get back to the Horcrux," Snape went on. "How did you come to have it?"

"Ah, that's a rather sorry affair," Regulus grimaced. "Actually, I should never have had it, but, well, the Dark Lord wanted to use Kreacher to hide that cursed object in a cave. But Kreacher came back and told me everything, and I knew I had to do something to destroy it. Being a Death Eater, following that wizard's orders…it wasn't what Mother thought. There was nothing noble or glorious about it. It was just…wicked. Not to mention that he was only a half-blood himself."

"How outrageous," Severus sneered.

"Rather, yes, don't you think, when one claims that pure blood is everything?"

"No doubt. Go on."

"Anyway, I couldn't go looking for that thing myself, without losing my life—Kreacher explained things well enough. So I tried to make one desperate final attempt. I asked for a private meeting with the Dark Lord, and I told him I knew he'd wanted to hide a precious object, and that this object wasn't safe. No need to say how upset he was. Despite everything, I managed to make him believe I was doing all this to help him, and ended by convincing him. So he did me a huge honor, and entrusted the locket to me. The Horcrux."

In his frame, Regulus hesitated. "At the time, I still wasn't sure what I was going to do. When I had it in my hands…it was too much. I didn't know what to do. So, I did something a bit stupid; like I did when I was a child, I went to see Sirius. I don't know what I was thinking, but Sirius didn't turn me away. On the contrary, he was happy I'd changed my opinions. I almost went to see you, Severus, but I thought…I wasn't certain. It seemed to me that you were trying to change your mind, but I wasn't all that sure of it."

Snape shrugged. "I suppose too much subtlety is damaging, sometimes."

Regulus nodded. "I started to learn about the locket. Thanks to my family's books, I quickly understood…a Horcrux…and how destroying it was almost impossible. I had to find something, and that risked taking too long, and at the time, I didn't have much because the Dark Lord was increasingly suspicious about me. Sirius offered to hide the Horcrux in a secure place while I busied myself studying Lily's necklace. He had a perfect solution: a place under Fidelius. That's what saved us in the end…"

"Saved?" Snape scowled. "Last I heard, you're dead, Regulus. And your brother as well."

"Little did our lives matter, but the Dark Lord didn't recover the Horcrux," Regulus said curtly. "When he finally understood—I don't know how—he questioned me." He made a face. "Torture would be more accurate. When nothing worked, he forced me to take Veritaserum. He was absolutely set on knowing where I'd hidden the Horcrux, but that's the beauty of Fidelius. Even with a potion, I couldn't answer. I died without having talked," he finished, with a small, sad smile that made Harry shiver.

"He must be looking for it everywhere," he remarked.

"If that's the case, he had to do it discreetly," Snape replied pensively. "He surely doesn't want others to understand."

"Oh no, certainly not," Regulus laughed. "The other Death Eaters to whom he entrusted those things all think they're objects of honor."

"And who are they, these other purebloods promoted to this rank of honor?" Severus asked.

Regulus smiled slightly. "Don't you suspect who? Lucius and Bellatrix, evidently. His little pets. I suppose he would've considered you as well, but…"

"Honor of a half-blood, I wasn't up to standard," Snape finished for him. "Not to mention I lacked the necessary fortune to adequately protect such a treasure."

"Quite correct. And influence as well."

"Do you know which objects are in their possession?"

"No idea," Regulus said, shaking his head. "But they must protect them, on pain of death."

"In truth, dear Lucius has already committed a blunder," Severus sneered. "But that leaves us with Bellatrix."

"Look for valuable objects," Regulus advised. "Our dear Lord is somewhat ceremonious."

"All this will be very valuable," Dumbledore confirmed. "You've been of inestimable help, my boy."

"I'd like to think so," Regulus sighed. "I didn't have a particularly memorable career, either as Death Eater or traitor."

"Better late than never, I suppose," Snape said. "Now it remains to be seen how that locket ended up at the Dursleys'. But I suppose that's no longer important, now that it's been destroyed."

"If Lucius and Bellatrix were safekeeping one of those…things, well maybe there are others?" Harry guessed.

"No," Regulus corrected him. "The Dark Lord was reluctant to entrust this one to me because he didn't want too many people involved. I doubt he risked secreting another Horcrux to a simple wizard."

Dumbledore and Severus nodded.

"Perhaps we'll need to question you again later," the Headmaster said. "Would you like to be hung in any particular place?"

"A peaceful place, please," Regulus replied. "I'm scarcely used to company anymore. If you have a place in the castle that needs surveillance, that would suit me perfectly."

"Ah well, just above this office, there's a little room housing a rather peculiar guest whom I must keep an eye on."

"That's perfect," Regulus assured him. "Completely the sort of task that suits me. If something else occurs to me, I'll let you know. Could you send Kreacher to hang me? I'd like to talk with him."

"And while you're at it, tell him I don't bear him any ill-will," Harry added. "Our relationship has been a bit…tense. Him and Sirius…well, he'll tell you. But I know it wasn't totally his fault," the boy said reluctantly.

"I'm afraid I understand," Regulus murmured. "I'll talk to him, young Harry. And I hope we'll have the chance to talk again too."

"That'd be nice," the boy said sincerely.

"But for now, it's time to return to your studies," Snape ordered.

"Take on a professor as a father and see what you get," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Father?" Regulus asked, with new interest in his voice.

"Some other time, Regulus," Severus said with a smile. "Society gossip can wait."

"I suppose," the ex-Death Eater said, clearly amused. "See you later, then."

A black cat threaded its way along the corridor, heading for Gryffindor Tower, and Dumbledore undertook his duty of calling Kreacher and giving instructions. Deciding he'd accomplished his mission of the day, Severus hesitated for an instant over what he should do. He was hardly in the mood to begin a potion. Actually, he wanted to share his latest discoveries and the great satisfaction he'd derived from them with someone; but Albus already knew, and there was hardly any other alternative.

Unless perhaps…where could Lupin be at this hour? Probably spying on Hagrid's hut, he thought. Of course, it would only be a visit out of courtesy, even less a friendly one. No, he'd keep his promise concerning their new pact. Exactly, it was entirely that.

Stepping out purposefully, he headed for the gardens, satisfied. He was scarcely beyond Hogwarts' walls, and out of view of students, though, when he sensed a presence materialize beside him. Quickly unsheathing his wand, he let out a growl of frustration as he recognized the canine form standing at his side.

"Not another Black," he growled. "I thought I'd made the rounds of them for the day. There must be a legal limit for…"

"Enough whinging!" Sirius ordred. "You're the one who called _me; _Lily told me!"

"Pardon?" Severus said, taking offense.

"She's the one watching over you most often. You're not going to complain, are you?"

"I don't see why I need to be watched over," Snape said indignantly.

"Your last encounter against the Death Eaters should answer your question," Sirius barked out. "Did you call me, yes or no?"

"Yes," the wizard admitted. "It's a bit late, but after all…it so happens we've found Regulus' portrait."

"Regulus? The portrait? Exactly what do you want with my brother?" Sirius asked distrustfully.

"Information on the Horcruxes. The locket he entrusted to you, do you remember it?"

"The…ah, yes, I see. Yeah, of course. I'd sort of forgotten that thing. It was important, then?"

"Important?" Snape moaned. "For Merlin's sake! Did you once have that thing in your hands?"

"Yeah." The dog shivered. "And it wasn't a pleasant experience. That thing belonged to Slytherin himself, you see, and he didn't like me at all. I suppose you can't understand, but he did really bizarre things to me. I mean, not bizarre in the sense…well…"

"Black!" Snape shouted in exasperation. "Simpleton! That locket was much more than a simple relic. It was enchanted, cursed. It contained a piece of Voldemort's soul!"

The stream of invective that followed almost shocked the ex-Death Eater.

"Good god, Snape! I stashed that thing at the Dursleys'. You have to go get it!"

"It's already done, you slacker! It's been destroyed and is harmless now, but it filtered its cursed power into the entire house for years, on your godson, Black! On my son! What do you have to say to that?"

The dog had nothing to say. He sat down heavily on the ground still covered with snow, and fastened his empty eyes on the wizard's boots.

"Merlin, Merlin, I never thought… I thought it only had that effect on me. I knew I had to secure it somewhere. In fact, I hardly thought, when Hagrid told me Harry had to go to his aunt that evening, after what happened at Godric's Hollow, when he told me why. I just went through what was left of Lily and James' things, personal items, letters, some clothes. I pulled that out of a trunk and told Hagrid to leave that for the family, for Harry, for later. There was the locket, and I thought... I don't know what I thought. That it would be an heirloom for Harry. That it wasn't important any longer, that Regulus was dead, and that it would be safe with him, in that house protected by Lily's sacrifice. Merlin, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

And it was in watching this dejected ghost who was really no more than a shadow of himself, it was in thinking of that long line of sullen, despairing portraits, that Severus realized:

The house of Black had been extinguished this time. Extinguished and cursed, buried with all its secrets, large and small, shameful and noble, those little secrets that had killed this family as surely as a curse.

The Black family was finished, and no shadow could do anything anymore to change the fact of that now.

* * *

_And here we are again! Sorry for the wait everyone, real life got in and you know how annoying it can be! We're back on track now, Raewhit even started the next chapter already, huge hugs to her! A big thought for a wonderful kitty that went to purr in the stars recently, Hermione was the most affectionate car ever, I still have snot and cat hairs on a few t-shirts to prove it :-)! So a big thought to Raewhit who took care of this really funny hairball for many years, and had the courage to take the final decision. I don't know if I will be able to if I have to someday. _

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter, though there was little Harry in it, at least there was plenty of Snape ;-)_


	51. Chapter 51 Lions and Wolves

**Chapter Fifty-One: Lions and Wolves**

Relieved without really knowing why, Shadow streaked as fast as his paws could carry him toward Gryffindor Tower. Something important had just happened, he fully realized, but the significance of it escaped him. But if the Man In Black was happy, well…

As he trotted along, he could sense Mrs. Norris' discreet but persistent presence behind him, and he smiled to himself. The breathing that had terrified him so much, once upon a time, was now comforting, just like the clanking of the armor he brushed against along the way.

As had become her habit, the Fat Lady's portrait slid graciously open to let him pass, and it was as a conquering feline that the cat made his entrance info the Gryffindor common room.

To his great satisfaction, he saw Ron and Hermione seated near the fire, distractedly watching over the youngest students scribbling away on their parchments. The cat's arrival made them look up, and smiles appeared on their faces.

"Back already?" Ron asked.

Shadow contemplated the notion of jumping onto the table and leaving paw prints on their homework, but he decided not to. What he wanted most was to talk.

"Don't ask me why, but for some reason I'm Kreacher's new idol!"

"Oh Harry, that's great!" Hermione gushed. "What happened?"

"It's a long story, but it turned out rather well. I think I have a second Dobby at my service now."

"And that's good news?" Ron asked. "I mean, last I heard, you weren't a big fan of Kreacher's."

"That's true," Harry admitted. "I don't know. I talked about it a bit with Severus, and…I suppose you were right, Hermione. It's hard to believe he's changed his mind so quickly, that said. One moment he hated me, and a second later, he threw himself at me, thanking me."

"Kreacher is old," Hermione pointed out. "Maybe he's not entirely right in the head."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "He ended up saying what a great wizard I am, so he certainly is!"

"I'm curious to hear this story," Ron said. "I have a feeling it's a good one!"

"Yes and no. But I'll tell you later. Right now, I have something else to ask you," Harry answered, sitting down with them. "What happened with Malfoy in Potions class?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a knowing look, which made Harry even more curious.

"What? What did he do?"

"Well, it seems Draco is really in a touchy situation, and it's getting on his nerves," Hermione began. "I don't know if you knew, but he's been getting threats from other Slytherins."

"But I thought most of the Death Eaters' children had gone off to Durmstrang?"

"Makes no difference," Ron said. "It's not like Malfoy was particularly popular."

"I would've thought the opposite to be true, though."

"Well, I suppose his influence, his money and his family worked to his advantage up until now," Hermione explained. "But he used them to lead his house by the wand, and most of his housemates resented that."

"And now he finds himself with no family, fortune, or ally," Harry murmured.

"Exactly. And the result is he can't hang with the others anymore, and he has to sleep in a place that's kept secret. It seems the others are making a point of complicating his life all the time, especially during classes. There've been a few dangerous episodes."

"And then, there's a rumor," Ron went on. "You Know Who would offer a reward to whoever could bring him Malfoy…or part of his person."

"Pardon?" Harry choked out.

"Yeah, a finger or an arm, that sort of thing."

Harry felt his eyes bulging in their sockets. "Has to be a joke."

"A rumor," Hermione said cautiously. "But it's enough to tempt some people. And Potions class, well…that's potentially the most dangerous place."

"Ask Neville," Harry murmured. "I really want to believe you."

"Right at the start, Snape had Malfoy working at his desk, while he himself did a potions demonstration in his own cauldron off to the side."

"In fact," Hermione stated, "the professor was working on several potions at the same time. I suppose he must've got a bit behind lately."

"Probably," Harry said, without understanding where his friends were taking this.

"The class was going rather well, actually. Slughorn was walking the aisles, checking our potions, while Snape was showing how to do them."

"It was really a good idea," Hermione added. "Very interesting. But…"

She glanced quickly at Harry. "Well, it was obvious the professor was having a spot of trouble managing all his potions at once."

"Snape having trouble with potions?" Harry laughed.

"Yes. It wasn't really noticeable if you weren't watching, but he had to recast his spells several times on certain cauldrons and…"

"He was rather irritated," Ron finished. "It was clear he was frustrated. And the more irritated he got, the more bothered Malfoy got in own corner. In the end, that imbecile of a ferret stepped over and cast a spell himself on a cauldron, while Snape was working at another."

Harry had paled, but he motioned for them to go on.

"And at that, Snape got outright furious. I've never seen him attack Malfoy, but this time made up for all the others. He shouted at him to mind his own business and stay at his place, and a few other choice bits from Snape's _Book of Insults."_

"Actually, it wasn't as bad as all that," Hermione corrected, "it was more the look on his face. Anyway, Draco didn't take it well at all. I suppose it was the first time the professor talked to him that way, and…then, instead of obeying, Draco started to shout as well, how Professor Snape was ungrateful, that he needed Draco, and given he didn't have much of his own powers anymore…"

"He said 'hardly anymore powers than a Squib'," Ron clarified, earning himself a dark look from Hermione.

"…Draco told him he'd better get used to accepting help from more powerful wizards. No need to say that didn't go over very well."

"Seeing how it ended, him saying that was rather funny," Ron concluded. "Because being so angry must've brought Snape's strength back, or something like that; he didn't say anything, be he made a move with his wand and the door opened, and Draco found himself outside, head over heels, before he had time to say, 'Ummf!'"

"It _was_ rather impressive," Hermione said with a slight smile. "As it was the end of the hour anyway, everyone left shortly afterward, and Draco had disappeared. I doubt he appreciated it. But Snape was really beside himself. I suppose not many knew about his powers."

"That said, after what he did to Draco, I doubt many took his so-called handicap seriously," Ron added.

"The situation is complicated enough as it is without that imbecile adding to it," Harry grumbled. "Malfoy is a pretentious moron, and a pretentious moron I'm going to have to deal with, apparently."

"How so?" Ron asked curiously.

"Severus told me to make an effort. That it was hard for precious Draco to turn his back on his family, and…_Him._ But it's not only Severus, I mean…that prat can be totally unbearable at times; he even found a way to ask Severus to adopt him too! But on the other hand, I don't know. I suppose we can't let him fail. Severus is right; if he's pushed to go back to Voldemort, nothing's been gained."

"As a line of reasoning, that seems a bit silly," Ron said. "The prat's just a nasty boy with a father who's spoilt him. Let him fend for himself."

"It's more complicated than that, Ron. Harry's right," Hermione sighed. "But I'll admit I'm in no hurry to ponder the matter."

"Still, tell me you're not going to get all buddy-buddy with Malfoy?"

"Ron, we're at war, and Malfoy… Draco is on our side."

"Apparently. For now," Ron corrected.

"Yeah, well, we're going to have to work it out so it stays that way," Harry sighed. "Severus is right. We can't discount anyone."

"I think he's got a lot of nerve, with all his lofty principles," Ron said indignantly. "I don't recall him being particularly nice to Sirius or Remus. 'Do as I say, not as I do', right?"

"I don't think Sirius did much to help matters," Hermione pointed out. "As for Remus…" She hesitated.

"I actually think they made a sort of non-aggression pact," Harry said. "I haven't heard them insulting each other lately."

"Boys," Hermione sighed. "But someone really has to take the first step. I…" She took a deep breath. "I'm going to see if Draco needs help with his homework."

Her two friends looked at her as if she'd suddenly sprouted a new head alongside the other.

"Hermione, are you feeling all right?" Harry asked, worried.

"Perfectly. I'm just going to class and asking him if he needs anything. That shouldn't be so complicated. Like you said, a non-aggression pact."

"Hermione, you don't even know where Draco is," Harry patiently pointed out.

"That's right. But with your map, that'll be child's play."

"I don't have it on me, and I really don't want to go back to the dungeons just now, but…I suppose you could ask McGonagall. She's sure to be glad to help."

"Super idea! That way I can ask her for details on his class schedule today; I'm sure there's another way of…" She stopped when she noticed their unfocused eyes. "No matter. Ron, you're coming with me."

"Excuse me?" he asked with a jump. "No way! Homework, Quidditch! Not a chance!"

"Ron!"

"Your idea, your problem." The boy hurriedly extricated himself. "Us two, we have a planning meeting on the Quidditch pitch to, uh, talk over strategies with the team. Right, Harry?"

"Ahhhh…absolutely. Right. Good of you to remind me. Quidditch. Yeah."

Hermione rolled her eyes and got up, seeming stiff and starchy.

"Very well, as usual, I'll do all the work on my own. But I'm warning you, when Dumbledore has Draco play on a different Quidditch team to promote inter-house harmony, don't count on me to support you. I'm curious to see what Malfoy will look like in burgundy on a broom."

And, lifting her chin, she left the room, leaving the two boys horrified.

"She was joking, right?" Ron asked.

"I…think so," Harry replied. "I mean, Dumbledore would never do such a thing, eh?"

A heavy silence fell between them.

"Maybe we'd best have this meeting while we still can, don't you think?" Ron suggested.

"Hmm. I'll go get the team…and two or three others along the way. Substitutes. You never know."

"Right," Ron agreed. "Get Ginny. Even Neville if you have to."

"Let's not go overboard," Harry murmured, heading off for the dormitories.

From behind the portrait, Hermione smiled with satisfaction before going on her way.

Not far from there, unaware of Gryffindor maneuvering, Severus was headed for Hagrid's hut, trying to remain as discreet as possible. Lupin himself was probably hiding out somewhere, and it wouldn't do to attract Hagrid's attention. Whatever others might think of the half-giant, Hagrid's ears were particularly sharp, and not much escaped his notice in his own territory.

So a detour through the copse of trees was in order, and Snape quickly congratulated himself for his caution when he heard the sounds of a dispute down below. Lupin's voice, he realized; so the werewolf had changed his observation point. But it was the second voice that make his ears perk up. Not Loki, even less Hagrid: this voice was female and familiar. Politeness would've certainly required him to do an about-face, but curiosity and his spy reflexes won out, and he stealthily crept forward, careful to stay under cover.

"How do you _want_ me to take it?" the young woman was asking bitterly. "You didn't even make an effort to tell me to my face!"

"Nymphadora, it's not exactly as if…"

"And it took me coming here on the sly, pretending to go to the library like a first year! You didn't even invite me to come and see you!"

"I'm truly sorry," Remus sighed, "everything happened so quickly. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know where to start and…"

"You've known since this summer," Tonks raged on, "and you didn't say a thing to me! Not a word!"

Vaguely amused, Severus settled himself more comfortably against a tree to take in the spectacle. Well then, Lupin was going out with the young Auror, and hadn't seen fit to alert her of his new state of paternity. Interesting.

"I didn't know myself until I found myself face to face with him," Remus replied wearily. "I was on a spying mission among them. I didn't have the slightest idea who Loki might be, nor that he existed."

"But you ended up learning of it. And you didn't think to come and talk to me about it. What sort of couple does that make us?"

Lupin let out a long sigh, and put his hands on the young woman's shoulders. "I told you. I knew it wasn't a good idea, we never should have…"

"You're not going to go off on that again!" Tonks flew into another rage. "That has nothing to do with it, and you know it very well!"

"My son is almost the same age as you!" Remus shouted. "And he's dangerous, uncontrollable, and probably in service to Voldemort! That's already enough…I refuse to put it on your shoulders as well."

"Oh, how noble and heroic you are," Tonks lashed out. "And my opinion in all this? Simply talking to me—would that've been so complicated?"

"Yes, it would've! It was too much all at once; this concerned only me, the war, Loki. He needs me, and…I have to _do_ something. I have to make him understand what's good and what's bad."

But the Auror shook her head, clearly disappointed. "That doesn't make any sense, and it doesn't answer my question. I thought there was more than that between us. I thought that you…" She made a face, refusing to finish her sentence.

Gently, the werewolf pulled her to him. "It's true. I swear it. But I'm much too dangerous for you, even without my son. And _with_ him, it's a risk I simply can't take."

"So _I_ don't have any choice?"

Remus hesitated. "I thought the choice was obvious."

"And it was so much easier not to talk to me about it?"

"I wanted to," Lupin assured her. "I just didn't have the time…or the courage."

"That's too easy," Tonks growled. "You don't have the right to quit without trying!"

"I have to give all my attention to Loki," Remus sighed.

"I thought Hagrid was taking care of him?"

"That doesn't make him any less my son. No matter what Dumbledore says, I won't leave him."

"You love him, don't you?" Tonks murmured.

"He's my son," Remus repeated stubbornly. "And Loba's. I can't desert him."

"Loba…is that his mother? You were…friends?"

"We were close, yes. But Loki's birth was in no way planned."

"You've never spoken of it," Tonks pointed out.

"I didn't think there was anything to say on the subject. Our relationship was short, she simply disappeared into the wild. All because of an experiment gone bad. I never thought to hear of her again."

Behind his tree, Severus clenched his teeth. It was Lupin's fault, and his fault alone! He shouldn't try to claim otherwise!

"You should've told me," Tonks repeated bitterly. "You should've talked to me. About Loba, and Loki. You should've come to me. If you had even a bit of consideration for me…"

"I do!" Remus defended himself. "This doesn't change anything about how I feel!"

"But you're letting _me_ down."

"No, I… Merlin, I don't know," Lupin sighed. "Nothing's been easy lately. Harry was in danger, and often because of Loki, and Dumbledore…"

"In short, you have every excuse in the world," Tonks spat out. "You didn't even have the decency to tell me to my face, and now you're looking for excuses. But if you want to leave me, Remus, you're going to have to say it outright, and look me in the eye!"

The werewolf slowly lifted his amber eyes. "I don't want to force you to go."

"No! No phony excuses! I forbid you to make this sort of decision for me. If you leave me, do it for convenience's sake, or because you no longer care for me, but not because of anything else!" Tonks cried out.

"That's not the case," Lupin murmured, defeated. "But…"

"Decide."

"Could you…give me some time? Time for Loki to adjust, for things…to work out, one way or another."

"Time," the young woman said icily. "I see."

"I want to explain all this to you, I really do," Remus went on. "But this isn't the right time. Maybe we could see each other this weekend? Hogsmeade is close by…"

"Not the right time, hmm?" Tonks said frostily. "Maybe I need time to think too."

"I understand," Remus sighed.

The young woman shot him an exasperated look. "I don't have the impression you understand much. I'll let you know if I'm available Saturday. Until then, try to figure out something intelligent to say."

Snape could barely hold back a snigger, before noticing that the Auror had turned on heel and was now heading straight in his direction. He quickly cast an invisibility spell, then swore softly when it failed. The woman almost ran into him, and stopped short, seeming surprised.

"Oh, Severus. I didn't see you."

Snape muttered a vague greeting, taking care not to meet her eyes.

"I'm glad to be able to talk to you alone," she continued cheerfully. "How did your inquiry turn out?"

"Well. We found the painting at your mother's, actually."

The woman's mouth dropped open. "At Mother's? But…"

"Your mother and Regulus were cousins. The painting is safe at Hogwarts now. Our case has been resolved."

"I can't believe it! Congratulations! Dumbledore must be happy. You're truly the hero of the hour."

Ill-at ease, Severus shrugged. "It's just a small step forward. The most important remains to be done."

"But thanks to you, it will be much easier," Tonks went on. "Harry owes you a great deal. I'm really happy he's finally found a family."

"Well, I suppose that's a two-way street," Snape said, glancing at Remus, who was standing motionless not far away. The expression on his face didn't bode well.

"All you did this summer and since then, the way you saved Harry…I hope you'll get a medal for that. It was truly heroic. We all owe you a lot."

"Miss Tonks, I only did what I had to do; there's nothing especially heroic in that. You do the same every day."

"Face Voldemort and then escape him?" the young woman laughed. "No, I don't think so! Fortunately for me. I'm really sorry about what happened this summer, when you were being held by that psychopath. We should've come to the rescue sooner."

Severus took a moment to remember the incident in question, and was only more perplexed when he did. Where the devil was she going with this rambling conversation?

"That would've hardly been good strategy. But perhaps you should get back to Hogwarts—the Headmaster wanted to speak with you," he said, hoping to cut the encounter short.

"I suppose; I had to get away from it all for a bit," Tonks smiled. "Anyway, thanks for everything. And today was really interesting. See you later, I hope?"

And with a cajoling smile, she quickly stroked the sleeve of his robe before taking off in the direction of the castle, leaving Snape completely dumbfounded. But as he turned back to Lupin, he suddenly understood what had just happened. Arms crossed, the werewolf was stormily watching his girlfriend as she walked off, clearly hesitating over whether to run after her or hex her.

Snape paused a moment before stepping forward. "I don't claim to have a precise idea of what was going through Miss Tonks' head, but I'm fairly certain she doesn't have the least intention of creating a fan club in my honor," he said hesitantly.

To his great relief, Lupin's eyes, when he turned to him, were weary but devoid of animosity. "I suppose you heard everything."

"A good part of it."

Remus ran a hand through his hair as he let out a sigh. "I know what you're thinking. I'm a coward."

Feeling the earth seem to shift again, Snape lifted his hands in a conciliatory gesture, inwardly cursing his defective magic. Why did that invisibility curse have to fail just then?

"I think nothing at all. Your affairs are your own business."

"Apparently, you're her new hero," Remus said bitterly, ignoring Snape's remark.

"Don't be stupid," Severus grumbled. "I don't know much about romantic relationships, but it's clear that little scenario was meant to irritate you more than to flatter me."

"I don't know. I've done everything wrong. Dora's looking for someone brave; she's not an Auror for nothing…"

"For heaven's sake!" Snape exclaimed, exasperated. "Go after her and explain yourself; she can't have gone far!"

"No, not today. Better to give her time to think about all this. I've always thought our relationship was a bad idea; she's so much younger than I…and I'm…." Remus searched Severus' eyes, but all he found there was an intense perplexity mixed with annoyance. No, the Potions master probably wasn't the best person to confide in with this sort of problem. Remus held back a smile. "I apologize. You must find me rather stupid."

Snape let out a groan that communicated more than words could. "That's probably true," he said, "but if Miss Tonks has no objections, then I don't see why you should do anything but thank god and pray that it lasts."

"Because it's not fair to her," Remus sighed. "Anyway…did you want to talk to me?"

Severus shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly. "I was coming to see if there was anything new with your offspring."

"I just missed him," Remus groaned. "Hagrid took him into the Forbidden Forest. If anything happens to him…"

"A wolf and a half-giant?" Snape asked skeptically. "I doubt it." He hesitated for an instant. It wasn't the right time to discuss his exploits of the day with the werewolf. No matter—best to keep it to himself anyway. He was about to turn away when Lupin's hesitant eyes stopped him.

"If you don't have anything to do, I plan on drowning this day in a butterbeer in Hogsmeade," the werewolf said, clearly expecting to be firmly turned down, probably with bloodshed in the bargain.

Severus thought for a moment of not disappointing him, and offering him a selection of insults and appropriate sarcasm, but the thought that Harry would be upset by it held him back. On the other hand, he had a pact with the man to honor, and he wouldn't turn down a whiskey after the day he'd just experienced.

"Why not?" he drawled, his tone conveying his actual enthusiasm.

When Remus smiled and turned to start for the village, Severus fell into step behind him.

Several hundred meters away, on the other side of the castle, the Gryffindor Quiddtich practice was coming to a close, leaving the players rather exhausted. Even the substitutes, usually less stressed by the practices, groaned as they touched down and felt gravity take hold again.

"Merlin, are you trying to kill us?" Ron moaned, groping at his back.

"Oliver would be proud of you," one of the Beaters told him spitefully.

"Maybe, but we've gone over most of our tactics and moves," Harry sighed. "That'll give us a head start in case our practice opportunities fall short in the future."

"What're you talking about?" growled another player. "We're starting up again on Monday, right?"

The entire team let out a collective sigh of painful anticipation, but all of them sported big smiles.

"In principal, yes, I reserved the pitch," Harry confirmed. "But if we have visitors…act like you've forgotten our strategies, okay?"

"A visitor like Professor Snape?" Alicia, one of the Keepers, asked cuttingly.

Harry tensed immediately. "I was thinking more like Malfoy. If the professor comes to watch, it'd only be to keep an eye on me."

"You're so naïve!" a girl exclaimed. "No way is the Head of Slytherin attending our practices!"

"My father will come to see me play as often as he likes," Harry replied icily.

No one dared to respond, but the boy couldn't help but see the dark looks his teammates exchanged with each other. It was Ginny who broke the silence.

"Of course he'll come to see you play; it'd be idiotic not to make use of his protection. With everything that's happened this year, I'll admit I'd feel better knowing he's there to ward off another catastrophe!" she said cheerfully.

Harry thanked her with a smile.

"Right," Katie said as she stretched, "I think there's only one thing left for us to do: dive headfirst in a good hot bath so we're not stiff and aching tomorrow."

The others agreed, and the team dispersed. Harry, though, hardly seemed in a hurry to go up to the Tower, and Ginny appeared very busy at carefully packing up her protective gear. Ron seemed determined to wait for his friend, but Hermione pulled him along firmly.

"Come on, hurry up, slacker. We have to monitor the first year study group."

"It's not that urgent," he started to protest, but a dark look from his friend made him change his mind. "Oh. Right. Okay, study group."

Glancing hesitantly in the direction of his sister and his friend, he finally decided to go off.

"The hard life of a prefect," Ginny said happily. "I sincerely hope Ron will be the last of the line!"

Harry smiled, before taking a deep breath and schooling his features to a more serious expression. "I'm sorry about the Seeker position," he said at last. "It's only a substitute one, and you're an excellent player."

"Don't be stupid," Ginny replied, waving his words away with a hand. "You're the youngest Seeker in a century, remember! Of course you have to be the official player, no one has any doubt about it. Substituting suits me fine; knowing you, you'll manage to miss half of the matches, being in the infirmary!"

The boy smiled again, but Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth, the words scarcely out.

"Harry, I'm sorry; that was a horrible thing to say."

"Not at all; it was very realistic," he laughed. "And thanks for what you said earlier. About my father. I know everybody's having trouble getting used to the idea."

"That's only normal," the girl said gently. "And I definitely wouldn't be happy if he attends our practices, but I'd understand. I'd like my parents to be there as well, but…if your father would stick to just the matches, I think that'd satisfy everyone."

"I suppose," Harry admitted. They were silent again, and he desperately searched for something to say…anything…this shouldn't have been so hard, bloody hell! But Ginny didn't seem to have the same problem.

"I saw a black cat wandering in the corridors earlier," she said. "Was that you?"

"Possible, but I'm not the only black cat in the place. It's insane, the number of cats prowling through the castle!"

"This one seemed in a hurry…and he had a collar."

"That's a bit vague," Harry laughed. Then, seized by impulse, he transformed into Shadow.

"Oh! No, it wasn't you; I forgot about your lightning bolt!"

Ginny seemed amused. The opportunity had been too good to miss. Shadow leapt up to snatch one of the Quidditch protective pads and began to run circles around the girl, who tried to chase him as she laughed. He finally let himself be caught, and Ginny leant over to stroke his head. The cat's eyes definitely had a dramatic effect, but she'd hardly touched him when she sneezed and withdrew her hand.

"Oh no, I'm allergic to Animagus cats as well. What rotten luck!"

Harry quickly transformed again, and worriedly came closer. "Are you all right?"

"I've got to go see Madam Pomfrey," she sighed, showing him her already reddened hand. "I'm allergic to cat hair. I just didn't think that…"

The two of them looked at each other silently for an instant.

"I'm sorry," Harry offered.

"No, it's me. I don't know what got into me; it wasn't very polite of me."

"No, I…it wasn't…well, I…" Harry took a deep breath. How was he supposed to say this?

Ginny gave him a small smile. "I really have to go," she said. "See you later, maybe?"

"Take care of yourself," Harry agreed, defeated. Defeated by cat hair. Disconcerted, he watched her walk away. Ginny, allergic to cat hair. It was probably what one might call an irony of fate.

It really shouldn't have been so important. No more than the fact that Dean met up with Ginny and delicately took her hand, stroking it as if to make the pain go away.

And yet…it was simpler to change back into Shadow and take off again for the dungeons. Shadow was less complicated and felt things differently. And at that precise moment, that was a good thing.

Not enough of a good thing, though, that he didn't glance behind him and see Dean put an arm around Ginny's shoulders. And of course, this wasn't something that should be done, but what good was having a cat Animagus form if one didn't make use of it? And still, the best way of making use of it was to be discreet and meddle in other's affairs without them knowing it.

Pushing away the memory of the Man In Black reminding him that spying was a highly risky business, the cat took off after the couple, nose down in the closely cropped ferns. This was unnecessary, though; neither of the teenagers seemed to pay any particular attention to their surroundings.

"What did he want?" Dean asked, his tone artificially light.

"To tell me he was sorry I was only a substitute."

"He should be; you're as good as he is. But Dumbledore wasn't going to pass up such a good chance, I suppose, even if Angelina's not happy about it."

"She really thought she'd be Captain; I'm sorry for her," Ginny agreed. "But Harry needs something positive to focus on this year."

"Almost all of us are in the same boat," Dean grumbled. "Potter's always been Dumbledore's little pet, and that's not about to change. You only have to look at the party he threw for the adoption."

"That was perfectly in order," Ginny protested. "That wasn't just anything!"

"Mike Earnshaw, in Hufflepuff, you know, the big blond? He was adopted by a new family too, last year. His grandmother was raising him, and she died. No family. Did Dumbledore say a word about it? No…"

"But…this was different," the girl said. "Harry was adopted by a professor. And after all that happened this summer, he deserved a bit of attention."

"Attention? Because you think he doesn't get enough?" Dean laughed. "And adopted by a Slytherin, by Snape in particular… Don't you think he might've talked to us about it beforehand? Nothing at all. We've hardly seen him since the start of term."

"Well, _I'm_ happy for him," Ginny stated. Shadow couldn't help but sigh with relief, but a relief that was short-lived. "Even if I think he made a mistake," the girl went on.

"I thought you said it was a great idea," Dean grumbled.

"Oh, I think Professor Snape will be a good father to Harry, as much as possible. Or a good friend. Anyway, they'll get on well together, whatever the relationship they've developed."

"What?"

"What Harry needs is a mother," Ginny said. "A woman to coddle him, console him, coax him, protect him. Snape protects him in a magical way, but I don't think he's the sort to coddle him…"

Dean let out a guffaw. "Whatever, the professor's going to play big brother to Harry, who's probably too grown up to settle for such a strict father. But he won't have a mother—it's not like Snape's going to get married one day."

Dean laughed again, holding Ginny against him. "Merlin, no, not a chance. No sensible woman would want someone so ugly and bitter! Maybe Harry should find himself a girlfriend like everyone else. This adoption is really weird. He's really a bit old for all this hoopla…"

"Oh, but he'll find a girlfriend," Ginny said confidently. "And she'll be the one to mother him. That's obvious."

"Poor girl," Dean murmured, clearly amused. "One can't have everything, I suppose, a boy who's a celebrity, _and_ stable. I'm not a celebrity, but at least I don't need a second mother, I don't!"

"No, that's for sure," Ginny murmured regretfully, before stroking his cheek. "Go take your shower. I'll meet you at supper."

"Deal." And with an idiotic smile, the boy ran to catch up with the rest of the team, while his girlfriend went on her way.

Behind them, Shadow was literally flabbergasted. So this was how Ginny saw him? And Dean? Dean had always had a tendency to run him down and turn against him, but if the rest of Gryffindor felt the same way? And Angelina was cross with him? Dumbledore had given him the position just to make him happy?

And Ginny…something told him that Molly Weasley's daughter didn't look so unfavorably on the notion of mothering her boyfriend. Was what she'd said true? Was that what he was looking for? He didn't feel like he was, though…

What she'd said about Snape had been totally unfair! They didn't know the professor…obviously. The cat stretched out in the grass, feeling lost and noticeably depressed. Ginny had been right about one thing: he'd seriously neglected communicating with the Gryffindors. He'd trusted them just to be happy for him, and it'd looked like that was what'd happened. But it'd only _looked_ that way.

He sighed. He'd go back to the Tower more often, and talk with them. But not now. No, he needed to be with his Man In Black, safe at home. Without another thought, he trotted off in the direction where his instincts told him he'd find the professor: towards Hagrid's hut.

No Mrs. Norris to follow him here, no clanking armor either, just the wind in his fur and the smell of fresh grass, and…a green shield suddenly surrounding him as he started into a particularly tight curve.

So did the Protego work even if he was putting himself in danger? But it was as he saw a sleek form narrowly miss him that he understood—no, there was indeed something or someone who'd missed crashing into him…and apparently on purpose.

Scarcely had it registered that he was now alone and far from the castle, when the hair on his back stood on end as he realized who the intruder was. A gray wolf, so light it appeared white, and so large and imposing, it seemed enormous, and also seemed to find the situation especially comical.

Stopping to face him, the animal transformed into a physically disturbing young man. His hair was much lighter than Remus', Shadow noted; only his eyes really resembled the professor's. His face was almost devoid of expression, his intense manner completely concentrated in his eyes.

"So, then, your shield works for minor threats as well. I should've expected as much."

Calmed by this statement, the cat changed into the teenager again. In this form, he could see that he was almost a head shorter than the man standing opposite him, who was, however, only slightly older than he. Life was definitely not fair.

"If you suspected, why did you try? And what are you doing here all alone? I thought you were supposed to stay locked up somewhere in one of the Headmaster's closets," Harry said, his hand on his wand.

The man's slight smiled hardly changed. "I'm taking some time off. I have people to see."

"You took advantage of Hagrid's naivety, eh? You're going to cause him trouble again; you're really nothing but a nasty cheat!"

"Hagrid isn't naïve; he's just overly loyal. He knew he had nothing to fear!"

"The proof says otherwise!"

"You're really an irritating little boy, aren't you?" Loki said with a throaty laugh.

"I don't like being attacked everywhere in the castle," Harry said shortly, keeping him in his sights.

"Poor little kitty…but you've nothing to be afraid of, with your precious protection spell. I wonder, though, how close does your master have to be for it stay in effect," the young man mused.

"He's my father, and the spell's effective wherever he is," Harry bluffed. "A shame, isn't it?"

This time, Loki smiled, showing all his teeth, making Harry shiver. There wasn't a doubt that the man had spent too much time in his wolf form.

"Annoying, I'd say. But that won't keep us from being good friends, will it, Harry Potter?"

"Friends? You're dreaming," Harry spat. "You make fun of everyone—Remus, Hagrid! You're a Death Eater like the others; I don't know what you're up to in the castle, but I'll be sure to find out. And even Hagrid won't be able to do anything more for you."

"Hmmm, but my dear father would be upset. And because of that, you would too, wouldn't you?"

Harry clenched his teeth. "Remus will be more upset if I let you kill someone."

"Humans are strangely touchy about that sort of thing," Loki murmured. "Ah well, let's agree I won't kill anyone. My father will be happy and we'll be…good friends, little cat."

Harry tried to size up his adversary, but couldn't read anything on his face but a certain amusement.

"You serve Voldemort," he reminded him. "He killed my parents. No one in service to him can be…my friend."

"But you're forgetting the leader of your own pack. No, I should say adoptive father; the leader of your pack would be Albus Dumbledore instead, wouldn't it? Hmmm, I wonder if your protector is himself protected by a magic shield as well? I have the feeling he isn't."

"Don't even think of it!" Harry roared, again brandishing his wand threateningly.

But the gesture only made Loki laugh softly.

"Come to think of it, it's a bit too late. But that doesn't mean I'll tempt my luck, does it? So long as we're good friends, I don't see any reason to do it."

"You'd better remember the last time you tried to attack him, when you ended up in another dimension," Harry sneered, recalling their outing to Diagon Alley a month earlier. Now, the wolf's smile faltered slightly.

"Yes, that was my way of going out in style," he admitted. "He must've been a formidable wizard when he had all of his magic. Too bad that's no longer the case."

Again, Harry felt himself begin to seethe. Loki was right, and they both knew it.

"In your place, I wouldn't push it," he said, all the same. "You'd be surprised."

"But I like to be surprised!"

Once more, that frightening smile. "Well now, little cat, as much as I regret it, I don't have anymore time for you just now. I mustn't get my friend in trouble."

And without further ado, nor with any fear of Harry's outstretched wand, Loki transformed into the wolf again, tail in the air, and headed for Hagrid's hut.

The animal could say what he liked, Harry didn't trust him, and wasn't about to let him out of his sight. Changing himself into the cat, he took off after the white wolf. True to his word, the wolf did indeed seem to be heading for Hagrid's hut. Shadow saw him slow down, though, head lifted in the air as if he'd spotted something in front of him. Giving in to curiosity, the cat also drew near without being noticed.

Hagrid was there, he noted, but he wasn't alone. Dumbledore was with him, or, rather, was shouting at him. Shouting was perhaps too strong of a word, but Harry had rarely seen the Headmaster in such a temper.

"I trusted you, Hagrid! And this is the second time in just as many days that you've disappointed me! Do you have any idea of how important all of this is? I entrusted the boy to you, a mission of the greatest importance, and now he's disappeared again!"

"He said he'd come back, Professor, he promised," Hagrid whined. "I know he'll keep his word, he just needed to talk to his pack, because he's the leader, you understand, and without him his family is lost!"

"Rubeus, never before have I seen you demonstrate such a lack of common sense," Dumbledore said, in a voice that chilled Shadow. The disappointment was clear in his tone, as well as his piercing eyes. "Loki's gone back to his own to fight against us, and we've lost a tremendous opportunity to keep him from doing harm. Now…"

Loki didn't wait for the rest before leaping to Hagrid's side and sitting at his feet, staring defiantly at the Headmaster. Dumbledore, Harry saw, hid his surprise well, but his meditative demeanor as he stroked his beard spoke volumes. As for Hagrid, he beamed as he stroked the wolf's head.

"Ah well, here he is, eh? I told you so. He promised me. He kept his word, he came back! That's what I was telling you, Professor. He's not bad, he just needs to understand!"

"This certainly changes matters," the Headmaster said solemnly.

It was at that instant that Shadow realized that he'd not been the only one to watch the scene from afar. At some distance to his right, two wizards had witnessed the meeting as well. Remus Lupin seemed both resigned and relieved, a smile on his face as he headed towards his son, but Severus, who was obviously coming with him, was now staring at Shadow, seeming downright unhappy.

The cat flattened itself against the ground, sensing problems to come. He probably shouldn't have been out walking on his own like that, no. Nor followed Loki. Hmm. Assuming his most innocent demeanor, he ran to meet the professor.

"Might I know what you're doing alone, this far from the castle?" Snape asked immediately.

The cat blinked, purring as he rubbed against the Man In Black's legs. A cat didn't need speech, after all, but judging by Snape's unchanged expression, this wasn't the time for a demonstration of his charm. Snape was still staring at him darkly, with an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.

Shadow transformed back into a noticeably embarrassed teenager. "Um, I was coming to look for you."

"Look for me, really?"

"Yes, I thought you were over there, I don't know just why. And then Loki ran into me… Oh, the shield worked great, by the way!"

He saw Severus pale slightly.

"And we talked a bit. Loki and I."

"You talked? So that thing remembers how to be human?"

"He talks, anyway. As for seeming human, that's another matter."

"He threatened you, I presume?" Severus asked.

"Yes and no. He seems to understand that the shield protects me; he was just trying to rattle me. I'm not even sure it was intentional. And he claimed to wants to be friends with me, before more or less threatening to rip your throat out. That must be a wolf thing."

"Nice animal," Snape murmured. "I've always detested canines."

"Even so, he came back to Hagrid."

"_Even so_, Hagrid let him roam free in the middle of a school full of children," Snape mimicked, shooting him a murderous sideways look.

Which wasn't untrue, Harry realized. And hadn't Loki himself promised not to harm anyone?

"We'd best leave these amateur mutts to themselves," Severus grumbled. Harry nodded, and they'd both taken a few steps in the direction of the castle when a voice stopped them.

"Severus!" Remus called out to him. "Over here!"

The professor sighed. The werewolf was really overacting his part, if anyone asked Severus' opinion. Setting a hand on Harry's shoulder, he guided him off to the side to meet up with the little group.

"I see we've found the stray dog," he said, with a condescending look for the wolf.

"It would appear Loki's come back to us on his own, rather than meet up with…well, someone else," the Headmaster agreed.

As for Lupin, he seemed ecstatic. Which was really an exaggerated reaction, in Snape's opinion. He himself had willingly returned to the Dark Lord's fold, and it certainly hadn't been out of devotion. The wolf's return more than likely just meant they now had a spy in their ranks. Charming.

"And where do you plan on having this fleabag sleep now?" he asked slowly.

"I don't see a reason to change anything in the near future," Dumbledore said to his great relief.

"I'm proud of you, Loki," Remus announced, his voice brimming with paternal pride that made Severus roll his eyes. The mutt seemed to think the same, and cast an amused and scornful look at Lupin. A moment afterward, he transformed into human form again, surprising the gathering.

"Thanks for trusting me, Rub," he said to Hagrid. "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for what my companions did to your friend Fang."

Hagrid's eyes misted over at the memory of his watchdog, and he nodded, unable to speak.

"I know you miss him, and even if you can't replace him with another one…" Loki whistled sharply, and something moved in the bushes. As they watched, intrigued, a wolf cub trotted toward them, nose to the ground, obviously frightened but summoning all its courage to come and cower between Loki's legs.

"I'm presenting you with a new friend. She'll keep you company from here on out," he announced. "She's still young, but she'll grow and be strong and beautiful." He tenderly stroked the creature's light-colored fur. Hagrid, more overcome than ever, had knelt to take his turn to pet the beast, which was sniffing him shyly.

Then Loki turned to Remus with a slight smile. "And while we're at it, I'd like you to meet your granddaughter."

Shocked, everyone stared from Loki to the young wolf. She was undeniably light, like Loki in his wolf form.

"You knew very well that the leader of the pack had to do his job, right?" he said to Remus scornfully. "There's a whole litter of them. Not just one, actually, but I suppose that doesn't matter. For anyone interested, none of them are able to transform into a wizard. I checked. Their mother, after all, is a pureblood wolf."

With these words, the satisfaction and pride could be read in the Animagus' eyes. Finally looking away from him, Remus' eyes rested on the young cub playing with one of Hagrid's shoes. His hand shook when he reached out to the animal, before letting it fall to his side. Then, without a word, he turned on heel and strode off quickly for the castle, without turning back.

Lupin was nothing like a friend, hardly a colleague or ally, but still, Snape was struck by the sudden desire to cast a well-placed hex at the pseudo-wolf who, with a disturbing smile, was watching his father flee.

And from the way Dumbledore was regarding the young man, he wasn't far from thinking the same thing, Harry noted.

"You're going to come with me now," the Headmaster ordered curtly. "I think this educational outing has lasted long enough."

Loki gave him a smile full of teeth, then changed into the wolf again. With a lick of the tongue filled with tenderness for the young cub, he dutifully followed the Headmaster, leaving behind a Hagrid who was too overcome to react.

Harry joined him near the cub, who was whining as she watched her father walk off.

"That doesn't change anything, Hagrid," he said. "She'll be fine with you."

The half-giant nodded, and a big tear rolled down his cheek as he stroked the animal.

"So much wasted," he said at last. "So much wasted. And I don't even know her name."

"I don't think she has a name," Severus said gently. "At least not in human language."

"Then, I'm going to call her Fanny," Hagrid sniffed. "If it's all right with her father."

"Fanny, that's a very beautiful name," Harry agreed.

"I always told myself that if I had a daughter, that'd be what I'd call her," he said shyly, carefully taking the cub in his arms.

Severus and Harry exchanged a look. The emotion was palpable, and a heavy melancholy surrounded them.

"We're leaving, Hagrid," Snape finally said, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I think Fanny wants to get to know her new home."

The half-giant nodded, smiling weakly. "See you later, Professor, Harry. Thanks for stopping by."

The two wizards left for the castle, their steps heavy, Loki's words still ringing in their heads.

"Say," Harry finally said, "it's Friday. You said we could spend the weekend at the Manor, now and then."

"I hadn't planned for us to return there so early, but I must admit a few hours away from the castle wouldn't seem amiss to me," Severus replied. "And Horace will be there to take care of the Slytherins."

"It's all right, then?"

"Yes. I need a bit of space as well. So, get your things, we'll leave after mealtime."

"Or before?" Harry asked hopefully.

Snape laughed softly. "It's been a long week, hasn't it?"

Harry nodded. He didn't really want to have supper with the other Gryffindors.

"I'm going to alert Albus. I suppose he'll get over it."

The boy smiled. Sometimes his new father could actually be flexible…but he was probably in a hurry to get home too. Home…without really realizing it, Harry had taken his other form and jumped to the professor's shoulder.

Yes, they were going to spend a peaceful weekend with each other—at home. For the first time officially as father and son. The melancholy that Loki's words had evoked in him evaporated, and Shadow started to purr in spite of himself, rubbing his head against the professor's. Severus didn't say anything, but almost imperceptibly leant his head against the cat's.

Somewhere off to their right, Shadow's sharp ears heard the little _click_, and the cat felt himself smile. McGonagall had just struck again…

* * *

_Merry christmas everybody! A lot of purrs, cat hair and chocolate! How are you doing with this hellish weather? I personally have been stuck in London one more day because the train wouldn't work (how weird is that?), but nothing to complain about. I mean, it's London, had I been stuck in Paris, that would have been a reason to whine... talking about that, I was thinking this week end that I had been to London more often than to Paris this yeah, which is a bit weird considering I work 15mn from Paris by train. I really don't make any effort to enjoy this city. And so, on this idea and as this is my last year here, if any of you guys need a tourist guide in Paris when you come to visit us, just tell me, I'll be glad to take you to the nice places I know and to defend you against our horrible waiters and shopkeepers! (I truly believe that they are required to graduate in 'how to be rude to people' to get the jobs...)_

_On another note, I'm so very late on my writting planing... I'm going back to it! A lot of hugs to you all and especially to RaeWhit who translated this chapter! Have a nice christmas everyone, don't forget to give some turkey to the cat! Spoil them rotten, let them redecorate the tree and play with the shinny stuffs! This was a message from the Shadow Comittee!_


End file.
